Family Ties
by Swift tales
Summary: Horatio remembers his past while Ryan makes a terrifying discovery and struggles with his feelings for Eric and what they could mean for the both of them. Warning: SLASH! EricRyan SLASH! SLASH! If you don't like MaleMale relationships please don't read
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was going to be a hot day, Horatio thought as he looked out the window from his position on the bed. It was still early morning and the sun hadn't completely appeared from beneath the horizon just yet. The heat was already present, permeating the air and sticking to everything, the sheets, the walls, the windowpanes, his skin…every thing.

He wasn't used to the Miami air yet, having just moved from New York. Yes, it was hot in the summer in New York too, but the air in Miami was different. It was more humid, more damp, making Horatio sweat and causing his shirt to stick to his back. But he didn't mind the heat so much, he could live with the heat.

The bed creaked slightly but Horatio ignored the sound as he watched the sun slowly climb up into the sky, a fiery arch errupting into a round face of bursting flames spilling over the horizon. Yes, it was going to be a hot day.

He could see the beach and the ocean from his bedroomwindow. He watched the waves crash lazily into the beach and the sound soothed him, almost lulling him back to sleep, but not quite.

He finally peeled his eyes away from the sight outside and directed his gaze towards the alarmclock on his nightstand. The green letters told him it was six am and he debated to himself whether he should get up already or just stay in bed until the alarmclock went off at seven forty-five. However, it seemed the decision was taken out of his hands.

The door to his bedroom opened and a small face with large hazel eyes and brown hair peeked inside. Horatio smiled as the small boy stepped inside the room, softly closing the door behind him. He was wearing light blue pyjamas with a bright yellow star pattern and he was clutching a beige coloured, stuffed teddybear.

"Hey, what are you doing up son?" Horatio whispered softly.

The child shrugged his small shoulders and climbed into the bed, careful not to disturb the other person still sleeping beside Horatio. The small figure curled up next to the redhead. "I couldn't sleep. The air smells funny and it's hot, I feel all sticky." And he crunched up his nose in distaste. "And Peter had to go to the bathroom." He added, indicating the fluffy bear.

Horatio gave a soft chuckle. "The smell in the air is the ocean, you'll get used to it. And yes, it's hot, I know, but you'll get used to that too." He raised his hand and softly stroked the dark brown hair. "I couldn't sleep either."

"Why not?" The younger of the two asked.

Horatio shrugged. "I don't know, I just woke up a while ago. I've been doing some thinking and I haven't managed to fall back to sleep." He looked at the woman lying next to him. "But it doesn't seem like your mom is having any trouble sleeping and we should let her. Come on, I'll make you some breakfast."

The young boy hummed in agreement and carefully climbed down from the bed, dragging the bear along with him. Horatio slowly got up, carefull not to jolt the woman awake. He took the small boy's hand in his and lead him out of the bedroom and down the stairs and finally into the kitchen.

"Do you want to have breakfast out on the deck?" Horatio asked. That was the nice thing about living near the water. They had a small deck with a table and a few chairs so they could eat outside when the weather was nice. Horatio had build a small fence around the deck so his little boy wouldn't be able to fall in the water.

The brown-haired boy furrowed his brow in thought and then shook his head, climbing unto a stooll near the bar seperating the living room from the kitchen and plopping the bear down on the horizontal surface. Horatio simply nodded and pulled out two plates and setting them down on the table. He also pulled out cutlery and two glasses.

"So what do you want to eat?" Horatio asked, opening the fridge and peering inside to see what was available.

"Pancakes?" The child asked.

Horatio looked thoughtful for a minute and then nodded. "Alright, pancakes it is."

It didn't take Horatio too long to make pancakes and the small boy watched him the entire time. "Will you teach me how to flip them over, daddy? When I'm bigger and I can reach the stove?"

Horatio chuckled and nodded. "Sure I will, I'll teach you how to make pancakes from scratch. They taste better that way."

The boy smiled and nodded happily. They ate breakfast in silence, pancakes with tall glasses of milk, giving the small boy a milk moustache. Horatio wipped it off with a napkin and a smile and the young boy giggled.

"What are we going to do today, daddy?"

Horatio shrugged as he cleaned up their mess, putting everything on the counter near the sink so he could do the dishes easily later. "I don't know, Ryan, what do you want to do?"

"Can we go to the beach? I want to make a sand-castle, this big," and he stretched his arms to indicate how big. "I've never made a sand-castle before."

Horatio chuckled. "If mommy agrees I don't see why not."

"If mommy agrees to what?" A voice asked and both Caine-men turned around to see a brown-haired woman standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Mommy!" Ryan exclaimed and he hurriedly climbed down from his chair and rushed over to hug her. The woman laughed and caught him in her arms, hoisting him into the air and unto her hip. She kissed him on the forehead and smiled.

"Hey, how's my precious little boy?"

A little furrow appeared on the small forehead. "I'm not little."

She laughed. "Of course not, I'm sorry. How's my big boy?"

"He's doing fine," Horatio said, approaching the pair and smiling, "he just had a healthy breakfast."

She tore her eyes away from her son and focused them on her husband. A soft smile graced her mouth. "Good morning."

"Good morning." Horatio answered and kissed her briefly on the cheek. "Do you want some breakfast? I made pancakes and there's still some mix left."

"I'll think I'll just have some toast. I'm not feeling up to pancakes." She said and put their son down on the floor. "So, what was it that I had to agree with?" She asked as she quickly prepared some toast.

"Ryan wants to go down to the beach." Horatio said as he sat down at the kitchen table while Ryan tried to crawl into his lap.

"I want to make a sand-castle!"

Horatio chuckled and watched as his wife went to sit down at the kitchen table across from him, a small plate of toast in front of her. "What do you say, Laura?"

Laura Caine smiled and took a bite of toast. She chewed carefully before swallowing and then smiled again. "Sure, I don't see why not. We have a couple of days to settle in before we have to go to work and Ryan has to go to kindergarten."

Ryan made a face at the mention of kindergarten, he wasn't looking forward to a new class. Horatio Caine's son didn't make friends easily.

"A trip to the beach will be fun," Laura concluded.

Horatio smiled. "That's perfect."

"Yay!" Ryan called out. "I really want to make a sand-castle… Can we take a picture so we'll always remember what it looked like even after the ocean whipped it away?"

"Of course we can," Laura said, "I'll go pack a bag. We'll have to pick up some sunblock though. We're out and we don't want to get a sunburn."

Horatio chuckled, remembering a couple of days ago when he'd gone out without sunblock and he'd come back with one hell of a sunburn. It had faded away after a day or two but it had stung quite a bit for a time. He didn't want that to happen again, or to Ryan.

He set Ryan on the seat next to him, lifting him from his lap. "Alright, while mommy packs the bag I'm going to do the dishes. Why don't you go help her pack?"

Ryan smiled brightly. "Alright, I will." And he scurried off to find his mother. Horatio watched him go until he'd disappeared into the hallway. With another smile the red-haired man turned to the sink, ready to get started on the dishes.

He could faintly hear Ryan asking Laura if he could bring Peter and Laura saying that they wouldn't want Peter to get dirty. He laughed softly to himself when Ryan agreed because Peter didn't like taking baths.

He'd finished the dishes and was drying his hands when the phone rang. He picked up. "Hello, Caine residence."

"Hey Horatio, how's it going?"

Horatio smiled. "Hey Frank, everything's fine. We're still settling in alright."

"Good to hear. How's Laura and Ryan?"

"They're great. Ryan's complaining that the air smells funny and that it's too hot, but I'm sure he'll warm up to Miami."

"He's young, of course he will. How did Laura's interview go?"

"It went fine, she got the job. I'm glad for her. She really wanted to go back to work now that Ryan is old enough to go to school and stuff. I think she missed it, being a social worker, working with kids."

"That's good to hear. Well I have to get going, just called to see how you were doing. Tell Laura and Ryan I said hi."

"I will, bye Frank."

"Bye Horatio."

Horatio hung up and shook his head. He liked Frank, he was reliable, a good man and he had a sarcastic sense of humour that never failed to make Horatio grin. He was glad they'd be working together on a regular basis.

"Who was that on the phone?" Laura asked when Horatio joined her and Ryan in Ryan's bedroom, where Laura was looking amongst the unpacked boxes for Ryan's swimming trunks.

"Frank, he wanted to check in on us." Horatio said.

Laura smiled. "He's a good guy. Glad to have at least one friend on the force already?"

Horatio laughed and opened one of the boxes, immediately retracting a pair of bright red swimming trunks. She narrowed her green eyes at him and snatched them from his hand. "How do you do that?"

Horatio shrugged. "It's a natural gift."

Laura snorted and stuffed the swimming trunks into the bag she was carrying.

"Can we go to the beach now?" Ryan asked and Horatio ruffled his hair.

"We'll leave as soon as we all get dressed."

----- --- ---- ----

He felt old.

The sunrise didn't have half the brilliance it had twenty-three years ago and it seemed as if every day it was loosing some of its colour, becoming paler day by day. He sighed. It was twenty-three years to the day. Maybe he should give Laura a call and see how she was holding up.

He could remember that day as if it had only happened yesterday. They'd gone to the beach as planned and he and Ryan had made a sand-castle together. Laura had taken a picture of the both of them with it once it was finished. She'd taken Ryan swimming after that. There'd been a lot of people at the beach that day. It had been a hot day after all.

Every time he looked back on that day he would curse himself for his stupidity. He'd been so careless, so thoughtless. He'd only taken his eyes of his son for a minute, but that minute had been long enough for whoever…. He could still remember the rising panic in his chest when he realized that he couldn't find his son, that his son, his little boy was… gone. He'd run around the beach in near panic, but Ryan had been gone.

The days that followed had been hell and the weeks after that even worse as he and Laura struggled to accept the fact that their son was probably dead. He remembered the desperation in Laura's eyes as she asked him for another child and the broken look on her face when she suffered a miscarriage.

He sighed as he got up from the bed and went to the kitchen. It had all been twenty-three years ago. If his son was alive today… He would have been twenty-seven years old. Maybe he would have been starting his own family by now. Horatio hated thoughts like those, but he couldn't avoid them, not on that day anyway.

The decision to pick up the phone and dial her number had been made in a heartbeat. Horatio didn't know why he discussed it with himself anymore, he called her every year anyway.

"Hello, Laura Haigh speaking."

"Laura, it's Horatio."

There was a brief period of silence on the other side of the phone and then a deep breath. "Hey Horatio."

"How are you doing?" Horatio asked.

"As well as every year, I suppose. It doesn't get easier with time." She said softly.

He nodded although she couldn't see him. "I know."

"How are you?" She asked.

"Same as always." He answered.

There was really nothing else to say between the two of them. They'd said every thing they needed to say to each other years ago. Sometimes Horatio thought he'd like to see her again, to be able to talk about what happened without all the pain and the anger and the desperation. But he wasn't sure if he was ready for that, if he'd ever be ready for that. He wasn't sure if she was ready for it either.

They said their goodbye's and hung up. Horatio knew that they wouldn't talk to each other again until next year. Unless they met up in a case, but he doubted that would happen. Laura usually handled things with swing-shift.

As he walked from the kitchen into the livingroom he stopped for a few minutes to look at some pictures on the mantelpiece. There was one of him and Laura on their wedding day, he didn't know why he hadn't taken it off the mantelpiece and put it away after they'd gotten divorced. There was another one of Ryan when he'd been born. There was one of Ryan at the same age when he'd been taken. There was one of the only sand-castle he and Ryan had ever built together.

In the livingroom stood a big cabinet with several drawers. Horatio squatted down on his hunches and opened the bottom drawer. He pulled out a box and opened it. The first thing in the box was a beige teddybear, Peter and a pair of small babyshoes. They'd been Ryan's. He and Laura had wanted to get them bronzed, but they hadn't had the time before and after… it had been too difficult to deal with.

Another item was Ryan's birth certificate. Horatio slowly traced the ink of Ryan's name with his finger.

_Ryan Raymond Caine. _

To Be Continued…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

He always took time off on the memory of Ryan's kidnapping. He couldn't even think about working on that day and his concentration level was practically zero. He thought Laura might do the same, but he'd never asked and he didn't want to ask because that could lead to a whole other conversation and he didn't think he could handle that.

He generally didn't talk about it, about the kidnapping of his son. There were only a few people who knew about it, Frank, the people who'd worked the investigation, Ray, before he'd died, and Yelina. Ray, Jr. didn't know and Horatio liked to keep it that way. He usually wasn't in the business of lying or decieving his family members, but the less people knew the better.

He didn't want to be confronted by it, didn't want anyone to try and bring it up. It was only this day that he allowed himself to travel back in time and remember that day. It was on this day and this day alone that the thought back on his little boy, the wide smile, the starfish paws pressed against Horatio's cheek, the big hazel eyes…

He sighed and leaned took a sip of his beer. He was dressed in old, comfortable jeans and a black t-shirt. His red hair was messy and his feet were bare. The radio was softly playing in the background and Horatio simply looked out the window, gazing at the blue sky.

Ryan's favourite colour had been blue, sky blue. Horaito had painted Ryan's bedroom in that colour himself, with Ryan watching even though Horatio had told him to go outside because of the fumes. Horatio had also painted white clouds above the blue on the ceiling to make it look like the sky.

The doorbell startled him out of his musings and he set down his bottle of beer on the coffee table. He got up and walked down the short hallway to answer the door. He wondered who would be stopping by on his day off. He opened the door and smiled sadly. "Frank," he stepped aside, "come on in."

The bigger man stepped inside and they went back to the livingroom. Horatio offered Frank a beer and he retrieved it from the refrigerator. They settled down on the sofa together and didn't speak. Horatio didn't bother asking why Frank had decided to come by and Frank didn't offer the information, they both knew.

"I remember when I first met your boy," Frank said softly, "tugging that bear along."

Horatio chuckled. "Peter, Raymond gave it to him. Ryan never slept without it, he took it with him practically everywhere, except if Laura told him he couldn't. I still have it, he didn't take it with him to the beach."

Frank chuckled. "I remember the time he forgot it in that restaurant. Laura made it back ten minutes before closing time."

"He wouldn't stop crying for it," Horatio said, a wistful smile on his face, "God, he loved that thing."

They didn't say much more, neither had the words and both were lost in the memories of a little boy and a bear named Peter. Frank slowly twirled his empty beerbottle on the coffeetable. He'd been there before Ryan had been kidnapped, in the days when Horatio seemed to smile much more and didn't feel the need to hide behind his sunglasses and a calm façade.

He'd seen Laura and Horatio's relationship crack beneath their sorrow, the loss off their little boy and the miscarriage that Laura had suffered. Frank had been working on the investigation at the time, but there hadn't been any evidence and there hadn't been any suspects. And the more time passed, the less chance there had been at finding the little boy alive.

It had been hell on the couple to loose their only son, their child. Laura had wanted another baby after Ryan's disappereance, she'd needed to feel that connection again, between a mother and her child. But the miscarriage had almost killed her and they'd had to remove her uterus. The loss of their second child had driven Horatio and Laura apart.

Horatio had stayed in the house they'd shared and Laura had moved away. She hadn't wanted to stay in the house even though Horatio had offered to move out, she couldn't take all the memories. Horatio had stayed, not able to leave it behind. They hardly ever saw each other.

Frank still had contact with both of them. He and Horatio saw each other during work and they often went for drinks after shifts. He and Laura went to lunch together sometimes and sometimes she invited him over for dinner. She'd told him that Horatio called her every year on the anniversary of Ryan's disappearence.

Frank couldn't imagine what it was like, to loose a child like that. They didn't know who'd taken their son, or why. All they knew that one moment they'd stopped to pack up their stuff and when they turned around again, Ryan had been gone.

Frank sighed. "Ryan wonders why you won't call him by his name, " he said out of the blue, "he wonders why you keep calling him 'Mr. Wolfe'."

Horatio chuckled sadly, taking another sip of his beer before answering. "And he'll keep wondering. I can't… I just can't call him by his name, it reminds me too much… He would have been Wolfe's age, if he hadn't been taken."

Frank nodded. "I know, I told him it wasn't anything personal."

Horatio smiled sadly and nodded once, running a hand through his hair. "There was this time, when Ryan was just born when he wouldn't stop crying. It was driving Laura nuts. It was the middle of the night and Laura was near tears. I took him out for a drive to give Laura some peace and quiet. He fell asleep almost the second I turned on the engin. He always fell asleep when we were in the car."

Frank didn't answer, merely allowing his friend to talk. They stayed like that for over three hours, Horatio mostly talking and sometimes Frank joining in. They even laughed at some of the things that had happened and Horatio clung to it, he needed to look back with a smile on all the good times.

When it was dark the doorbell rang again and Horatio got up to answer it. Yelina had a comforting smile on her face and a bag of take out in her hand when Horatio let her in and she nodded in greeting to Frank. Horatio got Yelina a glass of wine and she sat down in the two-seat next to the sofa. Horatio also got plates from the kitchen and they silently distributed the food among the three of them.

"Ray Jr. has started noticing. He asked me why I always come over on this day every year. Wasn't I complaining only yesterday that he needed to pay more attention to the people around him?" Yelina said.

Horatio chuckled. "I think he's pretty covert about his noticing people. He's a lot like his dad."

There were some things some people just didn't understand. Horatio had loved his brother, still did even though he was dead. Some people thought he must have resented Ray, especially according to the rumours about him and Yelina. But those rumours weren't close to the truth.

He loved Yelina, like a sister and a best friend. She and Ray had helped him through the most difficult time in his life. After his brother started working undercover he and Yelina had gotten closer, tied together in concern for Ray. After his death…they had worked together to help Ray Jr. recover from the ordeal of loosing his father.

Ray had been his best friend all his life. They'd gone through a difficult childhood together and they'd both gone into law enforcement when they were adults. They'd been best men at each other's wedding and Ray had been the godfather of Horatio's son just like Horatio was the godfather of Ray's son.

It was times like these that Horatio missed Ray the most, the times when he needed his brother to be there for him while he knew that Ray was gone, just like Ryan.

Some people would probably argue that Horatio needed to quit the pitty party. But Horatio just needed one day, one day a year to deal with everything. He never allowed himself to think about it any other day.

At the other side of town, a brown-haired young man was sipping his drink in a bar and watching his friends trying to unsuccesfully hit on a couple of girls. Ryan Wolfe rolled his eyes and took another sip.

"I'm beginning to think this sorry excuse for a birthday party was just an elaborate scheme to get me out to a bar and look like thoughtful friends while in reality you guys just wanted to pick up some women." Ryan said as he watched Dave Hutchinson convince a young woman to dance with him.

"I'm beginning to think you're right," Aaron Jessop said. "But if it was a completely thought out plot then they didn't mention it to me."

Ryan sniggered. "Because they know you're the only decent one in the lot of them and they'd probably figured you'd stop them."

Aaron snorted. "Of course I would have stopped them. It's your birthday man, not some random guy's night out."

"Guy's night out?" Ryan asked with one raised eyebrow.

Aaron glared. "Not a word, Ryan, not a word."

Ryan's rather rude retort was interrupted by the ringing of his cellphone and he sighed before flipping it open and pressing it to his ear. He was thankful that they were sitting in a rather secluded corner where all the noise wasn't quite so loud.

"Hello? Ryan Wolfe speaking."

"Hey honey, happy birthday!"

Ryan grinned and shook his head. "Hey mom."

"Hey, I'm happy to hear your voice. When are you going to come down to Boston? It's been ages since I've seen your face."

Ryan grimaced. He didn't like Boston so much, despite having grown up there…or maybe that was part of the reason he didn't like Boston. His childhood hadn't been all that happy nor easy. His mom had been a single parent and they'd struggled to make end's meet. She'd also been very strict and could be difficult sometimes and Ryan didn't make friends easily.

"I'm sorry, but I'm kinda busy with work right now. I don't think I'll have the time to come to Boston… How about you come to Miami? I know you don't like the heat, but you'll be able to visit uncle Ron too, I know he misses you, he's your brother you know."

There was a moment of silence but then his mom's voice filtered through the connection. "I know honey, but I just don't like coming to Miami. And you know I didn't approve of you moving down there… but it's your birthday so I'm not going to start that up again. We'll talk about this some other time."

Ryan rolled his eyes but agreed anyway. "Alright, we'll talk about it some other time."

And they would, of course, because his mother never could talk to him without trying to get him to move back to Miami. He was getting rather sick of it, but he wasn't sure how to make her stop. He'd tried pointing out to her that he was a grown man who could make his own choices, but she simply didn't get it.

"Okay honey. Now, I have to go. I've send you an e-mail but I just wanted to hear your voice and congratulate you in person on your birthday… well sort of in person."

Ryan laughed. "Alright mom, thanks."

"No problem honey. Say hi to uncle Ron for me. Bye-bye now, I love you."

"I love you too mom, bye."

He waited for the dial tone to indicate that she'd hung up and then hung up as well. He sighed and took another sip of his drink. He loved his mother he really did, but sometimes she could drive him up the wall. He supposed it was like that in every family.

She'd violently opposed his move to Miami, but he'd ignored her protests and moved away from Boston anyway. He loved Miami, the heat, the ocean smell in the air and the few good childhood memories he had was in Miami going fishing with his uncle Ron. Although those were far and few in between, his mother hated the heat and they'd hardly ever gone to visit Ron.

She was always pressuring him into moving back to Boston. He could understand that it was difficult for her to be alone in Boston, that she missed her only son. He knew it was difficult for her to let him go, to let him grow up. He remembered his mom telling him that when his father died, Ryan had been the only one she had left.

He sighed and took another sip of his beer. He was a grown man and he could make his own decisions. Besides, if she wanted to see him that desperately she could always come and visit him. There was nothing stopping her, besides the heat.

To Be Continued…


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Ryan smiled broadly as he finished cataloguing his evidence and filled his paperwork. He'd finally managed to convince his mom to come to Miami and she was arriving in a couple of days…. If she didn't back down at the very last minute. But Ryan was confident she wouldn't, she'd promised she'd come and she never broke a promise.

Alexx had already made him promise that Ryan and his mother would have dinner with her family when she was in Miami and Ryan had been more then happy to agree. He wanted his mother to meet all the people who'd come to mean so much to him in Miami, all the friends he'd made.

Of course as soon as he'd told Alexx that his mother was coming to town she'd immediately told Calleigh, who told the rest of the lab. By now Calleigh had extracted a promise that his mother would have dinner with her and the rest of the team. It seemed that because Ryan had the tendency to avoid talking about his personal life everyone was curious about it.

He didn't mind so much, but he found it a little embarrasing when Eric teased him about it… especially when the Russian Cuban teased him about it in front of Horatio. The red haired man had smiled good naturedly and clapped Ryan on the back, which had been odd because as far as Ryan knew Horatio was the kind of person to avoid physical contact, and had said that family was important. He hadn't said anything else besides those cryptic words.

Horatio confused Ryan. He was kind enough and he seemed to trust Ryan, otherwise he wouldn't have asked Ryan to flush out the mole, right? He seemed to have confidence in Ryan's abilities as a CSI. But he still called Ryan 'Mr. Wolfe' and it drove him up the wall. Would it be so difficult to call him by his first name like he did with all the others?

He'd talked to Frank about it once, he hadn't had the guts to talk to Horatio about it. Frank had just said that it wasn't anything personal, that it didn't have anything to do with Ryan and that he should try to forget about it. It was kind of difficult to forget about it when he was confronted by it every time Horatio talked to him.

Ryan opened the door of his locker and shook of the thoughts. It didn't matter. Frank and Horatio knew each other well, they went way back and they hung out together, Ryan had seen them in a bar together once. If Frank said that it didn't have anything to do with some sort of status in the lab, then it didn't have anything to do with some sort of status in the lab.

He pulled out his jacket and shrugged it over his shoulders. His shift was over and he planned to go home and do some cleaning. He wanted to make sure his house was in tip-top shape when she came to stay. He'd been adament that his mom took up his guest bedroom, he didn't want her staying in some hotel.

He was startled by the door of the lockerroom opening and jumped slightly before relaxing when he saw the familiar flash of blond hair.

"Hey Calleigh."

"Hey Ryan," the Southern beauty said, "you heading home?"

Ryan nodded. "Yeah, I was just leaving. I still have to get some things in order by the time my mom gets here."

Calleigh grinned. "I'm sure everything will be spick and span." She looked at him curiously for a minute before sitting down on the bench and crossing her legs. "What is she like?"

Ryan turned his head briefly to glance at her and then turned back to his locker, fiddling with his bag. "What do you mean?"

The blond-haired woman rolled her eyes. "Aw come on Ryan, you know what I mean. You never tell us anything about your personal life."

She watched as he shifted on his feet, obviously uncomfortable, and tried to keep the grin of her face. He was just too cute, the way he tried to keep everything so close to his chest but at the same was so painfully open about his emotions it was endearing.

"She's great you know. She raised me on her own in Boston," he hesitated briefly, "I don't remember my dad. We came to Miami sometimes to visit my uncle Ron. When I was older I came here on my own because my mom couldn't stand the heat. When I graduated from Boston I… I decided to move here."

Calleigh nodded, picking up on all the things he didn't say. It was obvious from the tone of his voice that his father was a touchy subject that he wouldn't want to talk about. There was something up with him moving to Miami, his mom probably hadn't approved.

She knew he'd grown up in Boston, she could hear his accent from time to time although it wasn't nearly as obvious as her own accent. He'd also mentioned Uncle Ron before, something about picking locks?

"You must be glad she's coming to Miami then? I can't imagine that you two see each other often." She said.

She'd worked with Ryan for almost three years now and he hadn't taken any time off once in that time, which meant that he hadn't had time to go to Boston to see his mom. And from what she knew it was the first time that his mother had come to Miami ever since he'd started at the crime lab. Three years was a long time to be seperated from your family if you were close.

"What's her name?" Calleigh asked.

"Rachel Wolfe, why do you ask?"

Calleigh shrugged and smiled. "I'm just curious Ryan. Do you have any siblings?"

Ryan closed the door of his locker and turned to look at her. He had a soft smile on her face and he slowly shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. It's just me, my mom and uncle Ron."

"Ron is your mother's brother?"

Ryan nodded. "Yeah. My grandparents died when I was very young. I don't even remember them and my dad didn't have any family either. So it's just the three of us."

Calleigh smiled. "Well not exactly, you have us now."

Ryan laughed. "That's true."

Calleigh stood and smiled. "I have to get going. I'm meeting Jake for drinks."

He raised an eyebrow. "Jake? Hmm… Are you guys getting serious? Because if you are, Eric and I are going to have to talk to him."

She slapped him on the arm. "You leave Jake alone, he doesn't need you two threatening him like a pair of overprotective older brothers."

"Aw come on, Cal, you know we need to make sure he's good enough for you."

"I second that," a new voice said.

Ryan grinned. "See."

Calleigh huffed and glared playfully at Ryan and at Eric, who was walking calmly towards his locker.

"You've met Jake before Eric?" Ryan asked.

Eric grinned and turned around. "I've seen him, he looks okay, but looks can be decieving. We'll definitely have to check him out."

"Maybe we can run him through the system and see what we come up with?" Ryan suggested.

"Oh knock it off you two!" Calleigh said, laughter clearly hidden her voice. "I'm going now, and I better not catch you two checking up on Jake or else…"

And with that vague threat she left the lockerroom. Eric chuckled and turned back to his locker, shaking his head. "There is no way I'm running him through the system now. I have no intention to find out what Calleigh means with 'or else'…"

Ryan nodded. "I agree, she can be scary when she wants to be."

Eric nodded and rummaged around in his locker. Ryan hesitated, his eyes going from the exit to Eric and back again. He shifted his bag in his hands and was just about to say something when Eric beat him to it. "So you heading home?"

Ryan nodded and then, realising that Eric couldn't see him, spoke; "Yeah, I still have some cleaning up to do."

Eric snorted and turned around, giving Ryan a grin. "I'm willing to bet that your place looks a hell of a lot better organized then mine." A teasing glint came to his eyes, "Making sure everything is perfect for when mommy comes to visit?"

Ryan glared at him, although there was no real heat in his gaze. "Knock it off Eric, the mommy jokes are getting old."

Eric snorted. "Sure they are."

Ryan rolled his eyes and was about to leave when Eric's voice stopped him. "Hey, your mom is only arriving in a couple of days right? You still have plenty of times to clean up. What do you say we go out for some drinks?"

Ryan hesitated.

"Or wouldn't mommy approve?"

Ryan whirled around and put on a mockingly thoughtful expression on his face. "Well lets see, I either go home for a peaceful evening or I let myself be harrased by you the whole evening."

Eric looked affronted. "Harrassed? You're feeling harrassed? I don't know if I should be perturbed or offended?"

Ryan rolled his eyes. "I think that's basically the same thing in this situation."

Eric ignored him. "I wouldn't harrass you all evening. Come on, Ryan, just a couple of drinks. Where's the harm in that?"

Ryan hesitated again but then finally shrugged. He supposed it wouldn't hurt and Eric was right, he still had enough time to finish up with his cleaning and making sure that everything was in order, as long as he didn't have a major case all of a sudden he should be fine.

"Alright."

Eric smiled brightly. "Great. I really didn't want to go out alone tonight. Just give me a few minutes."

Ryan waited patiently while Eric finished gathering his stuff and closed the door of his locker.

"Alright lets go." Ryan said.

"Right behind you, mommy's little man."

Horatio watched in amusement as his two teammembers bickered with each other all the way to their cars. He was glad that Eric and Ryan were finally getting along. There'd been a few rough spots ever since Ryan came to the lab, but it seemed that the tension had finally dispersed and that they'd reached a common ground. It seemed like they were becoming best of friends.

He turned away from the sight, towards the entrance to the crimelab and calmly climbed the few stairs to the big glass double doors. He still needed to catch up on his paperwork. He'd fallen behind when he'd taken his day off about a week ago and he still needed to make up for it. However, he doubted that he'd ever be completely caught up on his paperwork, no one ever was. But nevertheless it seemed that he was staying a couple hours longer then normal.

He sighed, it wasn't like he had anyone or anything to go home to anyway, so he supposed it didn't really matter. He stepped through the glass doors and into the elevator. He fiddled with his sunglasses before putting them in the pocket of his jacket. Who cared if he came home late? There was nothing waiting for him but an empty house filled with memories.

To Be Continued….


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Five years.

Yes, five years, that was about right.

The last time he'd seen her was when she'd been dropping of some clothes at the lab that needed to be processed for one of her cases. They'd seen each other in the lobby, had established brief eyecontact before they'd both looked away and continued on with their lives and their jobs. They might speak to one another once every year, but seeing each other was something else entirely and appereantly something too difficult as well.

He'd reprimanded himself for it afterwards, had wondered why hadn't he gone to talk to her? Was it so difficult to look her in the eyes after all these years? Was it so difficult to look at her and know that with all the kidnapcases he'd handled and with all the parents he'd reunited with their children, was it so difficult to know that he'd failed his own wife and son? Was that the reason he hadn't been able to go on and talk to her?

He'd found it ridiculous of himself at the time. She did not blame him for not finding their son, she'd told him so. And he knew very well that he'd done all he could at the time. But still, his heart had said it was a failure and perhaps that was part of the reason why, sometimes, he went down to the evidence storage in the basement of the lab and looked over the casefile.

Now she was in the hallway of the lab, talking to the head of swingshift. The years had definitely been kind on her. She was wearing a cream coloured powersuit, with a skirt that came to her knees and a white blouse beneath her jacket. She was wearing a pair of white high heels and her brown hair was tied together in a bun at the base of her neck.

He'd stopped in the middle of the hallway when he'd caught sight of her from the corner his eyes. He'd nearly dropped his sunglasses from the shock of seeing her again. He took a deep breath and approached the talking pair. The closer he got the clearer and stronger their voices became.

"I'm sorry, Jonathan, but I do not do…"

"Just one drink, Laura, what's it going to hurt?"

"Look Walters, I'm sorry, but I'm not interested, okay?." Her voice had gotten a sterner tone, it reminded Horatio of the few times she'd ever scolded Ryan.

"Laura." Horatio said, as a way of greeting.

Clearly they had not been aware of his approach because Laura visibly jumped and Jonathan Walters, head of swingshift, had a startled expression on his face. Horatio regarded them both carefully and then gave them a smile.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

Walters gave him an annoyed look. "Actually…" But he stopped talking when Laura moved.

Laura shook her head and put a step towards him, her eyes flitting over his body as if she was trying to refamiliarize herself with him in seconds.

"No, you're not…We'd just finished."

Horatio nodded. "I see."

Walters frowned.

She hesitated. "It ...it's good to see you again, Horatio."

Horatio nodded. "It's good to see you too. I was wondering if we could talk for a minute."

Laura nodded too and glanced at Jonathan. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to excuse us."

They walked away from Jonathan, who was clenching his jaw, towards another secluded corner in the hallway. They did not speak for several moments and Laura shifted the files she was holding pressed against her side to her other hand. She stared through the glass walls at someone working in the DNA lab.

"How have you been?"

Horatio's question broke the silence and Laura finally looked at him. He found it disturbing, how well he remembered the colour of her eyes and the shape of her mouth compared to reality. She shrugged and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

"I'm alright, I suppose. What about you?" Her voice was soft, almost a whisper.

Horatio resisted the urge to shrug and fiddled with his sunglasses instead. "I'm sure I've been as… alright as you have been."

She nodded and reached out with one hand to lightly touch his arm. "Do you still live at the … old house?"

He nodded and something melted in the expression on her face. He scrambled around inside his head, looking for something to say to her. But she shook her head and shifted the files in her arms again.

"Anyway, thank you for saving me from Jonathan, he gets a bit persistant some times."

Horatio smiled. "No problem."

He'd been surprised at the stab of white hot jealousy that had crept up on him when he'd realized that Walters had been asking her out for a drink. He couldn't explain it, nor could he explain the sense of relief when he'd realized she was declining.

He cleared his throat. "What are you here for?"

A somber expression flitted over her face. "I need some clothes processed for a case. One of the neighbours alerted Social Services and I'm looking into it. I think the father is sexually abusing his daughter."

Horatio nodded. "You dropped it off at the evidence lock up?"

"Yes."

"I'll have my team look at it straight away." He said.

She straightened slightly. "I usually have swing shift handle this for me."

She didn't elobarate and she didn't need to. He knew just as well as she did that she usually had swing shift handle it so that they didn't have to see each other. But maybe working more closely with her, wouldn't be so bad. And this way she wouldn't have to talk to Walters again if she didn't want to. He fiddled with his sunglasses again. "I don't mind if you don't."

She gave him a smile. "Alright, I don't mind."

That same sense of relief flooded his system again and he smiled. "I'll get the results back to you as soon as possible."

Her smile widened. "Thanks, I want to get her out of that house, but I need some decent proof if I want to keep her out of it."

Horatio nodded in understanding, unaware of the curious eyes watching their exchange. Three members of Horatio's team, well two of them anyway, were watching the exchange from the tracelab with great interest, undetected because it seemed Horatio thought they were alone, and yet remaining a clear view curtesy of all the glass walls.

"I wonder who she is?" Calleigh mused.

"Whoever she is, they seem to know each other." Eric answered.

"Yeah, but did you see the way he led her away from Walters? He stepped into the conversation, and wham," she snapped her fingers to demonstrate, "they're walking away together. Walters was fuming."

Eric grinned. "Do you think he's asking her out? I mean he's old but not dead."

Calleigh frowned. "Old? He's only forty-eight."

Eric nodded. "Like I said; old."

"Eric, I hope you realise how juvenile that sounded." Ryan said, rolling his eyes.

The Cuban shrugged. "Whatever you say, mommy's little man."

Ryan sighed. "Are we back to that again?"

"Boys, boys, boys, will you knock it off… Look! He's laughing."

Horatio did seem to be chuckling, from what they could see, at something the woman said.

"When was the last time you saw Horatio laugh?" Calleigh asked.

Eric frowned. "I'm not sure."

Ryan turned back towards his microscope and peered through the lens. "Well I don't remember."

Calleigh shook her head and wrapped a finger around a lock of her hair. "That's my point exactly. Look at him, he's being… charming."

Ryan and Eric shared a look and quickly looked away before they started laughing. Calleigh clapped in her hands.

"Oh!I think I know who she is. Isn't she Laura Haigh from Child Services? I think I've seen her around a couple of times, she usually works with swing shift."

"If she usually works with swing shift then why is she talking to Horatio?" Eric asked. "And why does it seem that they know each other? They definitely have some degree of familiarity with each other. She keeps touching his arm."

"Doesn't anyone else feel that we're acting like teenagers spying on the teacher? Or the principal?" Ryan asked, still peering down the microscope.

The other two ignored him.

"Well he might be asking her out after all." Calleigh said.

"Maybe Frank knows, I mean he and Horatio are friends after all." Eric suggested.

Calleigh rolled her eyes. "Right, lets just walk up to Frank and ask him whether Horatio is seeing anybody. Do you even realize how that might look?"

Eric looked mildly uncomfortable at the thought. "What about Alexx?"

"I doubt Alexx would tell you, she's great at keeping secrets." Ryan offered, scribbling something down on a yellow notepad and stubbornly not looking out the glass walls.

Calleigh turned to him, that curious light in her eyes. "How would you know if Alexx is great at keeping secrets? Is she keeping yours?"

Eric, like a hound smelling blood, turned around with a grin on his face.

Ryan sighed. "Because it's obvious. Everyone trusts Alexx and she likes it that way, she'd never betray anyone's trust….Except if she thought it was good for them."

Eric grinned. "So you're not denying the fact that she knows secrets about you?"

Ryan sighed and flipped him the finger. Eric made another rude gesture in return and Calleigh grinned. "Come on now boys, be good."

Eric gave her a mock salute and Ryan rolled his eyes.

Calleigh turned back to look out the glasswalls. "Anyway, we could always try Alexx, there's nothing wrong with just asking… damnit! She's gone."

Eric whirled around. "She is? What about H?"

Calleigh frowned. "I don't know, I don't see him anywhere. Do you think they left together?"

"It's possible. What do you think Ryan?"

Ryan rolled his eyes. "I think I'm going to go to DNA and see if my results are in yet."

To Be Continued…


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Ryan snapped a couple of photo's of the crime scene and then crouched down to get a closer look at the shoeprints. After securing the pattern, he took a few scrapings of dirt, if it had some strange properties maybe they could find out where the owner of the shoeprints had been before he'd come to murder his victim.

"Mr. Wolfe."

Ryan resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Find anything?"

Ryan straightened and turned to look at his boss. "I found these shoeprints and some mud. There were a couple of fingerprints on the doorknob, but nowhere else. The surfaces look as if they'd been whipped clean. I've found some fibers on the couch and a waxy substance on the coffee table."

Horatio nodded and then crouched down near the shoeprint. "Do they go anywhere?"

Ryan shook his head, debating to himself whether he should crouch down too. The decision was taken out of his head as Horatio straightened. Ryan cleared his throat. "Eum, they end a couple of feet that way," he pointed, "and then just stop. I think there was a car parked there, but there aren't any tire tracks."

Horatio nodded. "Good job."

Ryan couldn't stop himself from smiling. He knew it might be a childish desire, but he couldn't help the need for praise that bubbled up inside of him. When he was in a vindictive mood he liked to blame his mother for it, for always expecting more and better from him. Sometimes he liked to blame his father, for dying on him and never giving him the encouragement he needed. Mostly however he was well aware it was simply a character flaw, something that might change over the years or might stay the same.

Whatever it was, praise from Horatio never failed to get Ryan in good spirits. That was probably why one look from Horatio that barely conceived disappointment always hit Ryan like a slap in the face.

He watched as Horatio walked away and finished processing the scene. He didn't find anything else and quickly decided to drop off the evidence at the evidence lock up and go to the airport. His mom was arriving in Miami today and he didn't want to be late in picking her up. He was just packing up all the collected evidence in the trunk of his hummer when his phone started ringing.

He cringed, hoping that it wasn't dispatch trying to sick another crime scene on him and flipped open the phone "Wolfe."

Afterwards he couldn't remember dropping his kit on the ground or sliding downwards against the side of the hummer until he was sitting down. He couldn't remember staring out in space while the voice on the other side of the line hung up after a few choice words. He couldn't remember keeping the phone pressed against his ear even though the call had ended and the only thing left was the regular beeping noise.

He couldn't remember Horatio crouching down in front of him, a worried look on his face as he laid a hand on Ryan's shoulder. He couldn't remember the red-haired man calling him 'Ryan' for the first time since he'd been hired and he couldn't remember the older man coaxing him to stand on his feet and helping him in the hummer.

He was completely numb, a part of him furiously denying the facts spinning around in his head and another part of him repeating the words over and over again. Later, Ryan would wonder how Horatio knew his address when the older man drove straight to his small suburban condo.

Later, he would be embarrassed that Horatio saw him like that, completely numb and in a haze. He was only dimly aware of Horatio talking to someone on the phone while he automatically opened the three different set off locks on his door.

He was in a daze, completely cut off from the world around him. Only vague impressions of what was happening around him managed to filter through his consciousness, immediately washed away by the tide of his own confusion.

When he came back to his senses, once again becoming completely aware of his surroundings, he was lying on his bed, beneath the covers. He realized that he was wearing an old pair of sweats and he could hear voices coming from downstairs. After a while he got up, padded through the hallway and down the wooden stairs, into his living room.

He found Alexx sitting on his sofa, watching the news report and Ryan stared dumbly at the screen for a minute. The news reporter was standing in front of a crash site near the everglades, behind her pieces of an airplane were visible and medical examiners and CSI's from both dayshift, swingshift and nightshift were running around the scene.

"… _caused by a malfunctioning of the rightwing engine. There were no survivors from flight 29, which left from Boston __Logan this morning at 8.45 local time. The police will be giving a formal statement later this day…" _

Ryan watched sedately as the newslady kept on talking. He didn't want to watch this but he couldn't get himself to move to the couch so Alexx would notice he was there. For a brief moment he wondered if Calleigh and Eric were at the scene, and if Alexx shouldn't be there. Shouldn't Ryan be there too?

He cleared his throat and Alexx immediately stood and turned to face him. "Hey baby." The worried expression on her face was still there when she smiled.

Ryan tried to smile, but the muscles in his face weren't obeying him and all he could settle for was a slight uplifting of the corner of his mouth. Alexx, however, didn't seem to be offended, she crossed the space between them in two heartbeats and pulled him closer to her. The minute he found himself trapped in her motherly embrace he could feel a heavy weight pressing against his chest and a big ball of steel blocking his airways.

He choked on the air around him and something hot burned behind his eyes. His arms wrapped around her frame and he buried his face in her shoulder. He could feel himself shaking, trembling and he wanted to pull himself together, but Alexx held him tightly and how could he turn aside that comfort?

"Maybe she wasn't on the plane?" Ryan asked, inexplicably angry when he realized how small his voice sounded. "Mom hated Miami, maybe she decided not to come after all. Maybe she didn't…"

Alexx' hand was ghosting over his hair, gently stroking it. "Honey," she pulled away from him slightly so she could look him in the eyes. "I'm sorry, but Horatio called a while ago. They got confirmation about the passenger's manifest from Boston Logan. Rachel Wolfe was on that plane honey, I'm so sorry."

Ryan nodded but didn't speak, the last vestiges of childlike hope slipped through his fingers and disappeared. His mother was dead, she'd died in the plane crash. The woman who'd raised him, cared for him, helped shape him into the man he'd become was gone. Sure, she'd been difficult to live with and sometimes he hadn't been able to stand talking to her and he'd resented her on numerous occasions, but she was his mother and in the end he'd loved her.

Alexx was giving him that soft, gentle, worried look he knew so well. It was odd how many times he'd already seen it over the years. The first time was he'd almost gotten blown up in a warehouse, after that the time when he'd gotten the nail in his eye. Then of course when the eye problems kept persisting and after that when he'd gotten blowfish poisoning. And Ryan couldn't even count all the times in between.

Was it wrong of Ryan to love the woman standing in front of him as a mother more then he'd ever loved the woman who'd died on a plane a couple of hours ago?

He shook the thought from his head. He was just being morbid. He didn't need to think about that right now. He looked back at the news report on the television, the newsguy in the studio was busy informing people about the latest rise in taxes and something or other. Ryan didn't really know.

"Ryan, are you alright?"

Alexx' worried voice made him look at her again and she was watching him with an anxious expression on her face. Ryan tried to smile again, failed, and simply nodded. "I'll be alright."

She looked doubtful and disbelieving but sighed anyway. "Alright then. I have to go now, I have to go to a crime scene. I'll get someone to check up on you." Her voice was soft and soothing, the motherly tone she always used with him.

"I don't need anyone to check up on me, Alexx."

There was no real heat in his argument, and Alexx definitely noticed, but didn't comment on it. She gave him another hug, kissed his cheek and after making Ryan promise that he'd call her if he needed anything she left, closing the front door gently behind her.

Ryan wondered briefly how long he'd been out of it and turned to look at the clock hanging near the double glass doors leading out to the deck. The deck was part of the reason he'd bought the house, he liked eating outside on it, except for in the mornings. He could remember asking his mom if they could eat outside on the deck when he was little and his mom telling him in a frustrated voice that no, they couldn't eat outside on the deck, because they didn't have a deck. Didn't Ryan realize that they were in Boston?

He shook of the memory and looked at the clock. Three hours, he'd been out of it for three hours. Ryan frowned, no wonder Alexx had been rather worried. He tried to shake it off and sat down on the couch. He grabbed the remote and turned the TV off, staring at the black screen for a while.

His mind wandered back to Boston, if he hadn't been so adamant that his mom come and see him in Miami she'd probably still be alive and kicking. But he'd absolutely refused to go to Boston for her, and why was that? Why did he hate Boston so much? Why couldn't he have set aside his hatred for that city and that house where he'd grown up and simply gone to see her there? She'd managed to get passed her issues with the heat and come and see him, why hadn't he been able to do so?

_Maybe because you've been __secretly hoping that if you wouldn't go to see her, you wouldn't have to see her at all? _

Ryan shook his head, dispelling the mean little voice. Of course that wasn't it. Even as a child he'd always hated going back to Boston after visits with uncle Ron. He'd even managed to make himself miss his flight on several occasions, even with his OCD, when he was younger and delay his return to Boston and his mother.

But still, he hadn't seen her in almost six years for Christ' sake! He'd moved to Miami immediately after he'd graduated from Boston University and had joined the academy after that. He'd spent some time on patrol and after that he'd joined the crime lab. He'd always had an excuse ready when she'd asked him to come to Boston for her and he'd never listened and now she was dead.

She'd died on a plane to Miami, a place she hated like no other place in the world, because she wanted to see her one and only son for the first time in six years because he'd been too much of a bastard to use some of his saved up vacation time and go and see her. Ryan was a bastard.

He sighed and leaned back against the couch' backrest. He couldn't allow the guilt to tear at him. It wasn't as if he hadn't had any reasons to avoid seeing her and going to Boston. Immediately he mentally smacked himself from thinking something like that. She was his mother! And she had died while trying to come and see him!

He tried to shake the thoughts from his head, he shouldn't be thinking about that now. His relationship with his mother was complicated, it always had been, even when he was a little boy if his uncle Ron was to be believed. He shouldn't be trying to figure everything out now, not when he was in shock over her death. He needed time.

He nodded to himself, yes, time was what he needed. He sat staring at the screen of the TV for a while, dozing in and out of sleep.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he opened the door to let Eric in. The Russian Cuban was carrying a six pack with him and there was a soft expression in his eyes that Ryan didn't dare to question.

They didn't speak as Ryan stepped aside to allow Eric entrance into his house. They didn't speak when they arranged themselves on the couch, Eric in one corner and Ryan in the other. They didn't speak when Eric passed Ryan a beer. They just sat side by side in silence.

And then, in a quiet invitation, Eric's foot nudged Ryan's thigh and before Ryan knew it, he'd snuggled into Eric's side, lying between Eric's legs. One of his arms had wrapped themselves around Eric's abdomen. He rested his head on Eric's warm, firm shoulder and sighed contently.

Eric's hand was softly stroking his hair and Ryan refused to allow his mind to dwell on anything, not on his mother's death, not on the fact that Alexx had sent Eric of all people to check on him, and definitely not on the question of what the hell they were doing. He just wanted something to hold on to right now, something comforting and warm and right and even though it should have come as a surprise, it wasn't surprising really that he could feel all these things with Eric.

He could feel the tension in his shoulders relaxing as Eric's stroked his hair softly while his other hand softly rubbed up and down his spine. He wondered briefly where their beers had gone to, but couldn't be bothered with opening his eyes and finding out. Finally, after what felt like eternal bliss simply lying there beside Eric, snuggled up to Eric, he fell asleep.

To Be Continued…


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

When Ryan woke up it was dark outside and the moonlight was spilling in through the glass doors. He blinked a couple of times and froze when he could feel the warm body of one Eric Delko breathing beneath him. They were still tangled together and Eric's arms were wrapped around Ryan's body in a secure hold.

Ryan moved carefully and slowly, looking up at Eric's face and wincing when he saw the way Eric's head was tilted back. The Russian Cuban would wake up with a crick in his neck and be decidedly uncomfortable. He sighed and snuggled back into Eric's shoulder.

He knew he should probably get up and wake Eric up so that the older man could go home and get some proper rest. But he just couldn't tear himself away. He knew it was selfish, but he just didn't care, he couldn't bring himself to care right now.

He needed this, needed the comfort that Eric was giving him even in sleep. He couldn't remember all the times he'd imagined Eric with him like this, soft and warm and sweet. If he was completely honest he loved their fights and their spats as much as he loved their banter and their friendship. But this was something completely new and he wanted to savour it as long as he could.

His eyes wandered across the room, watching the shadows playing across the walls. His gaze landed on the black TV-screen and he wondered if the police had already given their official statement about the plane crash. He wondered if they would be able to identify the bodies or if they were too badly mutilated and they had to resort to DNA tests and dental records to confirm ID.

The thought made him shudder, the mental images of his mother's mangled corpse flitted through his head and he closed his eyes in a vain attempt to block them out. He groaned and shook his head, unconsciously burrowing closer to the warm body beneath him.

"Hey, you alright?"

Ryan jumped, held in place by Eric's arms. He hadn't realized that Eric had woken up. He swallowed and nodded, not trusting his voice to get past the sudden lump in his throat. One of Eric's hands resumed stroking his hair as he'd done before they'd fallen asleep. The gesture was oddly comforting and he could feel his muscles relax despite himself.

There was a groan above him and Ryan glanced up, seeing Eric moving his neck from side to side and wincing slightly. The image was so amusing that a chuckle slipped past Ryan's lips, unchecked. He swallowed again and looked down.

What kind of person laughed when their mother had died a couple of hours earlier?

He supposed it was the stress or the shock making him react in such a manner, he mused faintly, another chuckle slipping past him. After a minute of silence he realized that Eric was watching him with a curious expression on his face, a mixture of confusion, understanding, surprise and something so tender Ryan had to close his eyes so he wouldn't see it.

"I'm fine." Ryan whispered, unsure of what to say or how to say it. He'd never been in this situation before and there were plenty of times that Ryan didn't know what to say to Eric, even in scenario's they'd written together over and over and over again.

The hand coming to rest gently on his cheek caused him to open his eyes again. That something tender was still staring back at him so he averted his eyes, looking at Eric's shoulder instead. He wondered briefly why neither of them were moving away from the other, but he couldn't get himself to ask or to move away first.

Eric gently grasped Ryan's chin in his hands, forcing the young CSI to look at him. He didn't talk for a while, simply looking at Ryan. The hand that had been stroking his hair was now resting on his back, a gentle pressure of reassurance and warmth.

"I'm sorry."

Ryan blinked, not capable of any other form of reaction. He swallowed and opened his mouth. "It's not your fault. You're not the one who refused to go to Boston, forcing her to come to Miami."

Eric frowned. "What?"

Ryan blinked again and finally tore himself away from Eric, flinging himself to the other side of the couch. It cost him far more effort then he'd thought it would. He took a deep breath. He ran a hand through his hair and turned his head to look through the glass doors at the deck.

"I…I haven't seen my mom in six years. She… lived in Boston all her life and I moved to Miami after my graduation from Boston University. I never came down to Boston, no matter how many times she begged me and she never came to Miami either, she couldn't stand the heat."

"Finally, about a week ago, we'd gotten into an argument over the phone. She accused me of lying to her about being so busy, that I just didn't want to see her. I told her that I wasn't lying, that I could spare two or three days and that Boston was just too far away. I told her that if she came to Miami she could stay a few days longer and she could visit uncle Ron while I was at work."

"She finally agreed, she said that if the only way for her to see me was for her to come to Miami, she'd come. I…. I should have gone to her see, Eric. She was right, I was lying to her, I have more then enough vacation time saved up to stay with her in Boston for a month. I just …. I just didn't want to go Boston."

"It's my fault she was on that plane! It's my fault that she died." His voice was steeped with tears now and Ryan hastily whipped at his eyes. He hated crying, he especially hated crying in front of Eric.

There was a sigh from the other side of the couch and then the couch creaked as Eric shifted his weight, moving closer to Ryan and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him into a hug.

"It's not your fault Ryan. She was on that plane because she wanted to see you, but it's not your fault that she's dead. You didn't make the rightwing engine malfunction; you didn't make the plane crash."

Eric's voice was soft and smooth and Ryan clung to it as much as he clung to Eric's embrace. "You don't have to feel guilty about this Ryan. How could you have known that the plane would crash?"

"But it was my fault that she was on it, Eric, my fault." Ryan whispered.

Eric pulled away far enough so he could look Ryan in the eyes. "No it's not. You're going through Survivor's Guilt right now, and you're not thinking straight because of the shock. Now come on, you need to get some decent rest and you can't do that sleeping on your couch. I need to get you into bed."

Ryan wanted to argue, say that he wasn't tired, that he wasn't just going through Survivor's Guilt, that rest wouldn't make everything better. But the look on Eric's face told him it wouldn't be such a good idea and he really didn't feel like getting into one of their arguments now.

He allowed Eric to lead him to the bedroom, wondering how Eric knew where the bedroom was, but not really caring. He climbed into bed after brushing his teeth and watched as Eric stood by the door, looking a little bit uncertain and undecided. Ryan smiled and held out his hand.

"Stay with me?"

Eric smiled. "You want to use me as your pillow?"

Eric's voice was warm and soft, gentle humour reaching across the space between them. Ryan smiled at him despite himself.

"You were a very good pillow."

Something in Eric's expression changed and he looked undecided again for a moment. "I'm not sure this is such a good idea. I should leave."

Ryan frowned. "But I want you to stay."

"You're pouting." Eric pointed out gently.

"I don't care, I don't want you to leave. I need someone to…" He almost choked on his tears. "I need you."

As soon as the words slipped past his mouth he wanted to take them back. He'd never admitted to needing anyone before and now he was admitting it to Eric of all people. But Eric was the only who inspired such a need in him and right now, he did need him more then ever before.

Eric's face was deceptively blank. "You might need me right now, but…. This really isn't the time to start anything. You need time…"

Ryan frowned. "Yes, I need time but…. I need you even more."

Eric hesitated one minute longer and then nodded, a soft smile on his face. "Alright."

Ryan watched as the older man took of his shoes, jeans and shirt, leaving him only in a wrinkled t-shirt and a pair of dark blue boxers. Ryan watched as Eric slipped underneath the covers and then reached out to turn of the light.

They lay side by side in the dark, the only sounds in the room their breathing and it seemed much heavier in the shadowed atmosphere. The light streaming in from the streetlights outside shone highlighted the contours of Eric's face and Ryan couldn't look away from his eyes.

Hesitantly Ryan reached out to Eric, laying his hand on the Russian Cuban's t-shirt covered torso. The muscles in Eric's back briefly tensed but then relaxed underneath his touch and a chuckle escaped his mouth. "Ryan…"

Suddenly Eric reached out as well and with careful shifting they finally lay spooned together, Ryan's back against Eric's front. The embrace was comforting and warm and even though Ryan wasn't completely sure if this was indeed a good idea, at this moment in his life, he found that he couldn't regret anything about this night.

"I don't want you to think that all of this is just because… my mother died." Ryan whispered softly. It was somehow easier to say this now that he couldn't look at Eric's face, but still be reassured through the touching of their bodies.

"Why would I think that?" Eric asked.

"Are you telling me it isn't what you're thinking?" Ryan said, putting his answer as a question.

"Maybe." Eric said.

Ryan smiled into the dark and laid his hand on top of Eric's, which were clasped together over his stomach.

"It's not because of what happened…. I…. I wanted this for a long time."

"Then why did you never say anything?" There was nothing accusatory in Eric's voice, only curiosity with a hint of soft understanding.

"Because I was afraid."

"And you're not afraid anymore?"

Ryan hesitated, but tried to shake of his doubts and worries and answer truthfully. "It's not that I'm not afraid anymore, but it's that…. The fear isn't relevant anymore. I need you and…" his breath caught in his throat.

One of Eric's hands untangled itself from the other one and from Ryan's hand and stroked the soft skin of Ryan's belly.

"I think I understand. I'll stay with you for as long as you need me."

Somehow, that comment wasn't as comforting as Ryan thought it would be. "As long as I need you like this… or as long as I want you like this."

Eric's hand stilled. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want this too, if I didn't want to … help you and if I didn't…" he trailed off.

Ryan smiled again. "I think that's all the answer I need, for now."

There was another chuckle. "Alright."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The next day came bright and sunny, like almost any Miami day, and Ryan woke up to an empty bed with the smell of bacon and eggs in the air. He stretched slowly, reaching out with one hand to the other side of the bed and found still warm sheets. Eric hadn't been out of his bed for very long.

The thought made him smile briefly.

After lying on his back, staring at the ceiling for a while, allowing the awareness of his life to seep through his mind, he threw back the covers and got out. He padded into the bathroom down the hall on bare feet and relieved himself. He washed his hands and took off his boxers and his shirt. After a brief shower he went back into the bedroom and got dressed in a pair of jeans, a white button up shirt and a dark green sweatervest.

He didn't wear a lot of sweatervests anymore. He used to wear them a lot, during college in Boston, but the weather in Miami wasn't exactly qualified for them, even though he liked them. His mother had liked them too. He shook of the thought and pulled on a pair of white shocks before slipping into his shoes.

He went back into the bathroom briefly to brush his hair and then went down the stairs, finding his way into the kitchen. In the kitchen he found Eric standing behind the stove, using a spatula on some scrambled eggs. He smiled at the sight, Eric in his dark blue boxers, wrinkled t-shirt and Ryan's white 'kiss the cook' apron.

The kitchen table was set with a plate filled with bacon, two empty plates with utensils, two cups of coffee and two glasses of orange juice. The whole scene was fairly domestic and it made Ryan's smile broaden, gave him a warm feeling in his stomach to counter the cold numbing sensation that had invaded him ever since the previous day.

However, his smile faded away again when he noticed the tension in Eric's shoulders and the way he used the spatula to command the eggs, brief and vicious stabs. He bit his lip, wondering if perhaps Eric was angry about what happened last night, for giving in to Ryan's whining.

He cleared his throat, causing Eric to whirl around, holding the spatula in front of him as if it was a weapon. His jaws were clenched with tension and there was a frown on his face.

Ryan gave him a hesitant smile. "You gonna kill me with the spatula, Eric?"

Eric's somewhat angry look gave room for a look of bewilderment followed by looking down at the spatula in his hand as if he had no idea how it got there.

"Eum… no.."

He lowered his hand and shrugged, before turning back to the stove.

Ryan bit his lip and then made his way to the table, sitting down in front of one of the empty plates. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm just…" Eric sighed and turned of the heating plate before emptying the pan over another plate and bringing it to the table.

"Just what?" Ryan asked, internally bracing himself for the words of regret Eric might utter.

"I just….Ryan…" Eric sighed again and sat down across from Ryan, in front of the other empty plate. He studied Ryan's face carefully, his own expression shuttered and closed off.

"I know what we said last night," he finally said, "I know that you said that you wanted, needed… whatever that was, for a long time now, but … I can't help but think that I'm setting myself up for heartbreak here."

"Heartbreak?" Ryan asked.

Eric nodded. "You're not ready for something like this, well you might have been for a long time, but with recent events things are different. You need time, like we said, but…. How am I supposed to know that you'll still want… whatever… after you've dealt with…. Your mom and all."

It was an unusual sight to see Eric so out of sorts, so unsure of himself, so hesitant about going after something he wanted. Because it was clear that Eric wanted… him. Ryan smiled.

"Eric, my mother is dead. She died in a plane crash and the only reason she was on that plane was because she was coming to see me. I'm going to need time to get over that. And I won't be able to … focus myself on building something with you, if that's what you want, until I've dealt with that. But… I can guarantee you, I'll still have feelings for you after I've dealt with this."

Eric studied his face for another moment and then smiled softly, leaning back in his seat and relaxing. "Alright, if we're being honest here then… I do want to build something with you, a … relationship (he seemed to shudder at the word)… and I'll wait until you've dealt with this and I'll be here for you, if you need me to."

Ryan nodded and reached out to touch Eric's hand. He briefly entertained the thought that this was probably the worst moment in his life to be having this conversation. His mother had died only 24 hours ago and here he was, talking about building a relationship, a life with the man he'd been working with for three years now.

But he couldn't get himself to regret this moment and he couldn't stop himself form needing to talk about it now, he needed to talk about it. It redirected his thoughts towards the future, instead of allowing him to dwell on the past, on what had happened. And while he knew that he needed to face what had happened sooner or later, he'd rather have it be later.

Eric chuckled, bringing his thoughts back to the present.

"What?"

Eric gave him a soft smile, that tender look from last night in his eyes again. "You were a million miles away."

Ryan smiled back and gripped Eric's hand, who entangled their fingers together. A shy feeling stole through Ryan's nerves at the moment and he could feel a blush rising to his face, reddening his cheeks. Eric smirked when he noticed and gave Ryan a wink.

They had breakfast together and didn't speak much, both too absorbed in their own thoughts to have a real conversation. Ryan wanted to go to the crime lab today, he wanted to see if he had to identify his mother's remains. He also wanted to talk to Horatio to arrange a few days off from work.

He'd need to arrange a funeral, he'd had to make sure his mother's remains were taken back to Boston. He'd have to be there for the funeral. Damn, he still had to go back there. The thought made him grimace and flush in shame.

Ryan cleaned up the dishes in the kitchen while Eric went upstairs to take a shower and get dressed. When Ryan went back upstairs to brush his teeth he could see Eric frowning at his clothes from the open doorway to his bathroom. The Russian Cuban was only wearing a towel.

"Something wrong?" Ryan asked.

Eric turned to look at him. "My clothes, I don't usually wear the same outfit for three days in a row, it gives the impression of being sloppy and untidy. I want to keep an air of professionalism you know."

Ryan nodded. "You can borrow some of my clothes. We're roughly the same size, I'm sure there are some things that'll fit you."

Eric looked amused for a second and then smiled. "Alright, I'm sure I can find something."

Ryan nodded and went to brush his teeth. When he came back out of the bathroom he almost ran into Eric who was obviously on his way back to the bathroom. The Russian Cuban was right in the middle of buttoning up the shirt he was wearing.

It was a light blue shirt that Ryan knew he'd worn to work a couple of times and would probably be recognized at the lab. Everyone who worked there was trained to be perceptive like that. Eric was also wearing a pair of black jeans Ryan had never worn, he couldn't even remember why he bought them.

"You look nice." Ryan said and promptly blushed a violent red when he realized what he'd said.

Eric smiled. "Thanks." His eyes racked over Ryan's body, lingering on the green sweatervest. "So do you."

Ryan gave a sheepish grin and moved aside so that Eric could step into the bathroom. They left not long after that, each in their own car. Eric had said that Ryan could just call Horatio, that he didn't have to go in today, but Ryan had been adamant.

He felt that it was important that he go in himself, to show that he wasn't afraid, to show that he was alright, that he would get through this. It was important that he showed he was strong, but he didn't mention anything of that to Eric. He only said that he wanted to go to the crime lab, that it was important to him. And so Eric had relented.

While Eric went to clock in, Ryan decided he would try to find Horatio and if he couldn't find his red-haired boss, he'd go down to the morgue to talk to Alexx. She'd probably be down there for a while, there'd been at least thirty people on the plane from Boston to Miami. He shuddered at the thought.

"Mr. Wolfe?"

If he hadn't recognized the voice, the 'Mr. Wolfe' certainly would have clued him in. He turned around and nodded to his boss.

"Hey H."

The older man gave him one of those piercing looks, the kind that made Ryan uncomfortable because it felt like Horatio had x-ray vision or could look into his thoughts.

"How are you holding up?"

Ryan shrugged, not sure how to answer. Horatio was using the soft, caring voice he normally used on abused victims or children, or people who'd just been in life-threatening situations. He could only remember a handful of times when that voice had been directed at him, more noticeably that time he'd gotten shot in the eye with a nailgun.

"I'm okay."

Horatio gave him another one of those piercing looks but seemed to accept his answer, although the unsaid 'for now' hung in the air between them like mist.

"I was actually coming to talk to you about taking some time off. I need to eum… take care of the funeral and everything, so I'm going to have to go to Boston for this and …. Eum, I'm going to need some time."

Horatio nodded. "Of course. Let me know exactly how much time you need and I'll draw up the necessary paperwork."

Ryan nodded, a sense of relief filling his belly. "Thank you, Horatio, I really appreciate that."

The red-haired man gave him a sombre smile and nodded. "Alexx would like to see you down in the morgue."

Ryan nodded again. "Right, I'll… I'll talk to you later, H."

And he was off.

He made his way to the elevator and pressed the basement button. Alexx had probably told everyone who'd seen her today that if they saw Ryan they had to send her to him. She probably wanted to check on him, make sure he was alright and deal with any sort of identification of the… remains at the same time.

When the elevator pinged Ryan stepped out and walked down the hall towards the double doors that led to the morgue. He pushed them open and stepped inside, noting, as always, that it was much cooler in the morgue then in any other place in the building.

Alexx was standing with her back to him, bend over some charred and dark human remains on a table. Ryan fervently hoped that those weren't the remains he'd have to take back to Boston with him.

"Hey Alexx."

The African American woman immediately turned around and smiled at him. "Hey Ryan."

Next thing Ryan knew was that he was being enveloped in the most motherly hug he'd ever gotten his whole life. He wrapped his arms around Alexx' waist and smiled softly. She was squeezing him for all she was worth and it gave him a secure feeling, despite the fact that he was grown man and should be able to feel secure all on his own.

She pulled away and gave him a once over, apparently satisfied she nodded once and then pulled away completely. "How are you feeling honey?"

He shrugged. "I'm feeling okay, I suppose, considering what's happened."

Alexx gave him a sad smile. "Have you talked to Horatio yet, about taking some time off?"

Ryan nodded. "Yeah, I'll probably be gone for a few weeks. I have to take the remains to Boston and bury them there. I have enough vacation time saved up though, so it shouldn't be a problem."

Alexx nodded again. "If you need me, you know you can call me, right?"

Ryan nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed in being dotted over yet unable to make himself stop relishing the attention. "Do you… do you need me to identify my…. her remains?"

Alexx shook her head. "No, I'm sorry…. The plane caught fire after it hit the ground, most all of the bodies are…." She took a deep breath. "We've already identified your mother's remains through dental records and such, but we're going to compare her DNA to yours to cover all our bases."

Ryan nodded again. "Since she's my mother, we'd have at least 10 alleles in common."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Ryan blinked and resumed staring at Valera in complete incomprehension. "What?"

Valera sighed and tapped her fingernails against the glass table while checking to make sure that no one was spying on them through the glass walls. "I compared the DNA of the body that dental records confirmed was your mothers to your DNA, but there were no alleles in common. So I thought that maybe the dental records were wrong and I compared the DNA of all the bodies found at the crash site to yours, but none of those bodies DNA was a match. So I figured, maybe your mother wasn't on the plane after all… but the passengers manifest proves otherwise."

Ryan's head was spinning. He blinked again. "What? What are you saying?"

Valera bit her lip and took another peek around the lab, before pulling Ryan closer and into a chair. "I'm saying…I ran both tests twice Ryan. Is there a chance that you're adopted and your mother never told you?"

"Well I suppose that's possible, the never telling me part because… hey! I don't know." Ryan hissed, running a hand through his hair. "Are you absolutely sure those tests are correct? That there's nothing wrong with the equipment or something?"

Valera nodded. "I'm sure… It's possible there's something wrong with what's recorded as your DNA in the system, but that's highly unlikely. I'll tell you what, let me take another DNA sample from you and I'll redo the tests."

Ryan, not really knowing what else to do, agreed and she swabbed the inside of his mouth with a q-tip.

"Alright, I'll get started on this right away, but it's going to take a while."

"Right… Did you tell anyone else about this?"

Valera shook her head. "No, I … I thought it would be best if I talked to you about it first."

Ryan nodded and after expressing his thanks and saying goodbye he left the DNA lab. He wandered about the lab for a while, unsure of where to go. He should probably go home and figure out what to do with the funeral and calculate how much time he'd need take of work, but… he just couldn't, not right now.

He found his way to the breakroom where he poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down on one of the couches lining the wall. He felt numb, oddly empty. He figured that he should probably be freaking out right now, that Valera's words should have had some impact on him, that it should have awakened any kind of reaction. But Ryan just felt… numb.

He wondered what it could mean. Could it be possible that he'd been adopted and that his mother had never told him? The words felt strange, alien, even in his own head. How could that be true? She would have told him surely.

Ryan bit his lip.

But they had been estranged from each other for quite a few years now. He hadn't seen her, only talked to her occasionally on the phone and through e-mail. She'd sent him one every day… But she was lucky if she got an answer from him once a week. Maybe she was afraid that the knowledge that he was adopted would alienate him even further away from her?

But she could have told him sooner, she could have told him when he was a teenager. They could have talked about it then. Ryan frowned. But maybe she'd been worried that he'd disappear to Miami one day and never come back, he had after all found it harder and harder to go back to Boston every time he went to Miami.

Maybe she hadn't known. Maybe there'd been a switch, a mix-up at the hospital or something. Maybe there was a woman out there who was Ryan's biological mother and who had raised Rachel's biological son.

But then… he sighed.

Maybe Uncle Ron knew what all of his meant, that was a possibility. He knew that his mom and her brother had lost contact with each other when Ron had moved to Miami and his mother had married his dad. After his father had died his mother had gone to New York, to see her brother and she'd had Ryan with her. But maybe she'd confided in his uncle, that was possible. They'd never been close but his mother hadn't been very close with anyone really, not even with Ryan.

He should probably contact Ron anyway, about the funeral. Did Ron even know his sister was dead? Ryan hadn't called him, but maybe someone from the police station had. Or maybe Ron figured it out on his own through the news, after all he knew his sister was on that plane and the crash was big news.

Nodding to himself, settled on some course of action, he got up from the couch and made his way out of the building. He'd go and see uncle Ron, they'd talk about the funeral and Ryan would try to find out something about a possible adoption. After that he'd call Horatio and let him know how much time he'd need off. Then he'd contact Alexx to see when the remains would be released.

And what was he going to do with the DNA samples? He'd need some other way to be sure that the remains were his mothers instead of his dental records. Of course, he could take a DNA sample of Ron, he was Rachel's brother after all.

He took his car to Ron's apartment building and parked in the visitor's parking space. He wondered for a brief moment if he should have called, but decided that it didn't really matter. He got out of the car and after collecting something from his trunk, went inside the building.

This place was very familiar to him, his uncle had been living there for over thirty years. When Ryan had been a small child he'd come here on summer holidays with his mother and later, when he was a teenager, he'd come here alone. He'd even stayed there for a while after he'd moved to Miami before he'd found a flat of his own.

When he reached the right floor, he knocked on the door of the flat and waited patiently. A few seconds later and the door opened to reveal the haggard looking sight of Ron Wolfe. When he saw Ryan he sighed.

"Hey Ryan."

"Hey uncle Ron."

They hugged for a brief moment until Ron stepped aside, letting Ryan into the apartment. "Come on in."

"I suppose you've heard." Ryan said.

Ron nodded and sighed. The older man did look haggard. His hair was tangled and unkempt, his clothes were rumpled as if he'd slept in them. His face had aged five years since the last time Ryan had seen him and there were lines around the edge of his mouth. His eyes were bloodshot and there were tear tracks on his face. Ryan couldn't help the small pang of guilt in his stomach when he realized he still hadn't cried yet.

Ron nodded. "Yes, I've heard. I've been waiting for you, I thought I'd hear from you much sooner."

Ryan could feel the flush creeping up to his face and he tried desperately to fight it down. "Things have been hectic…"

The older man clapped him on the back. "I'm sure they were."

They decided to sit down at the bar between the kitchen and the living room. Ron made some coffee while Ryan sat and thought. Finally, when they were sitting opposite each other, each with a cup of strong, black coffee in front of them, Ryan decided to say something.

"Did mom ever talk to you about things she wanted to do for her funeral?" Ryan asked.

Ron gave him a look, as if thinking that Ryan shouldn't have been thinking about the funeral yet, but should have been grieving. Or maybe Ryan was just projecting.

Ron shrugged. "Not really. The only thing I know is that she would have wanted to be buried in Boston, next to your father. She had his remains brought over there when he died. I know some people who were friends with her back in college, we could invite them over, along with some people she worked with."

Ryan nodded. "We could have the memorial service in the church near my mom's house in Boston. She went there every Sunday, she would have wanted to have the memorial there."

"It's going to take some time to get every thing arranged Ryan; the papers to ship the coffin, the plane tickets, the burial plot, the service, the invitations. We have to settle on a date for the funeral. And after the funeral dealing with the will, if there is one. If there isn't one, everything will have been left to you and you'll have to decide what to keep and what to give away."

Ryan could feel the earth being pulled away from beneath his feet. He hadn't even thought about something like that. If there wasn't a will and he inherited everything he'd have to stay in Boston even longer then he'd originally thought he would just to decide on what to do with all of his mother's stuff.

He didn't want to go to Boston, he wanted to stay in Miami and go on with his life and pretend this never happened. There was nothing in his life that would change with her death, nothing, except the number of e-mails in his inbox every day, but that was it. Immediately, he felt shamed by the thought. She was his mother, her death should have an enormous impact on his life, for a while at least.

She'd taken care of him, she'd loved him and he'd loved her in return even if it had been difficult for him to show her or to tell her. He sighed and buried his head in his hands. "You're right, uncle."

He could feel Ron's hand on his shoulder.

"It's not easy, Ryan, loosing someone you love so much. I know it's difficult, but it'll get easier in time, after a while it won't hurt so much anymore and you'll be able to move on."

Ryan figured his uncle had no idea how little Ryan was affected by Rachel's death. It sounded like the man had rehearsed this, as if he'd been focusing on how Ryan should feel and then adapted his words of comfort to that scenario. It didn't take into account how Ryan actually felt. But his uncle was trying, and that was at least something.

"Ron?"

"Yes?"

"Tell me how you first met me and mom after my dad died. I know that you two lost contact before that, but I never heard the full story. Mom never talked about that time in her life and." Ryan asked, feeling his heart beating wildly in his chest.

Ron Wolfe smiled softly and rubbed his chin absentmindedly. "Well, when we first met again, I was still living in New York you know. That was about twenty-three years ago, I remember because your mom told me it'd been your birthday a few days earlier. I only moved to Miami about two years after you and your mom came back into my life, after I retired."

"You know, your mom, she was a lot younger then I was. Our parents hadn't decided on another child after I was all grown up, but then all of a sudden mom was pregnant with Rachel."

"She was a little wild, and it was difficult for our parents to get a good grip on her, to understand her and to be strict with her. They adored her so they let her run free for a little bit. Then she met your father. I have to admit I didn't like him very much, but she obviously loved him. Next thing I know, our parents have me on the phone crying, telling me that Rachel's run off."

"We didn't hear from her for about three years, when all of a sudden I got a letter. Apparently after a couple of years roaming around Manhattan she'd moved to Boston with Tom Wolfe and they'd gotten married. She also sent news that she was pregnant and happy and that we shouldn't worry."

"There was no address to answer to, so I couldn't let her know our parents had died during those three years. Mom was the first to go, she died of a heart attack. Dad died in his sleep a few months after that."

"Anyway, about two years, two years and a half maybe, there's a knock on my door. And who was on the other side? My baby sister Rachel with a small brown-haired little boy in tow. You were so adorable Ryan."

"You had sunburn on your face and you were sucking your thumb. You kept to yourself mostly, used to avoid me and Rachel picking you up and you kept asking to eat outside on the deck in the afternoons. I asked Rachel about it because I didn't think there'd be a deck in your house in Boston. She said that it was something you and your dad did back in Miami."

Ryan's head snapped up. "What? Miami?"

Ron nodded, a frown on his face. "Yeah, didn't Rachel ever tell you? She, you and your dad had gone to Miami for a vacation. While they were there they got mugged and your father was killed in the process. She was lucky they'd left you at the daycare centre of the hotel or you might have been killed too. They never found the guy who did it. So after a couple of days your mom came to see me in New York."

Ryan leaned back in his seat. His mother had told him his father had died in a carcrash back in Boston. The truth however, certainly explained a great deal more. For example, his mother's hatred of the city and her anxiety when he'd become a cop and moved to Miami. It explained her reluctance to come to Miami.

He groaned and rubbed his hand over his face. If he'd known the truth he would have understood far better. If he'd known he would have gone to Boston for her. But she'd chosen not to tell him the truth.

"That's why she hated Miami, isn't it?"

Ron nodded. "Oh yes, you have no idea how difficult it was for me to convince her to come and visit me every summer when you were little. But I kept telling her, the change of scenery would be good for you, that the ocean air would be good for you. She gave in every time. As soon as you were old enough to come on your own she stopped coming along."

The older man sighed and took a big gulp of his coffee. "I think she blamed me when you decided to move to Miami. She never said it, but I knew. She didn't call as much anymore, stopped sending me e-mails entirely. She probably thought that if you hadn't gone to Miami so often when you were young you never would have moved here. I think she was right, but I don't think it was wrong."

Ryan smiled and shook his head. "No… Uncle, you are coming to Boston with me, aren't you?"

Ron looked surprised at the question. "Of course I'm coming along with you, you didn't think I'd let you go do every thing by yourself did you? You're going to need family to get you through this and we're family Ryan, no matter what."

Ron's words caused something in his belly to shake and crawl around and he almost cringed. Instead, he smiled widely, his muscles aching with the effort. "No matter what." Ryan echoed.

It was obvious to Ryan, that if Rachel had adopted him and never told him, uncle Ron didn't know about it. Ryan sighed and stood.

"Uncle Ron, there's just one thing I need. I need to collect a DNA sample from you to compare to mom's… remains. Since you're related to her you'll have several alleles in common and this way we can identify her."

While he was talking he'd reached into his pocket and pulled out the swab he'd collected from the kit in his car before he'd gone to see his uncle.

Ron gave him a confused look. "Can't we just use your DNA?"

Ryan shook his head. "I'm a cop, uncle, I have a conflict of interest and all of that, I need yours."

The older man shrugged and allowed Ryan to swab the inside of his mouth.

It wasn't a very good lie, if anyone payed any attention to it, it wouldn't make much sense. After all, how could his DNA be impartial? DNA was physical, objective evidence, end of story. He was probably lucky his uncle was such laid back guy and didn't think anything of it.

To Be Continued…


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Ryan was walking down the hallway of the lab and nodded to Natalia, who was on her way out. She gave him a sympathetic smile and laid her hand on his shoulder.

"Hey Ryan, I just want to say sorry, for what happened to your mom."

Ryan gave her a forced smile. "It's okay, I'll be alright."

She hesitated briefly and a flash of panic shuddered through Ryan's system when it seemed like she might want to hug him. He put a step past her and shot her another look over his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, but I need to talk to H."

She nodded. "Sure."

He gave her another tight smile and quickly walked away, towards Horatio's. The swab with Ron Wolfe's DNA sample was safely tucked away inside its cardboard box in the pocket of his jacket.

He'd ask Valera to compare his uncle DNA's sample to the DNA of what they suspected were his mother's remains. Then he'd ask her to compare his DNA to his uncle's DNA. Because Ron was only related to Ryan through Rachel he won't have as much alleles in common with Ron as with Rachel. But if his mother really wasn't related to him… then he wouldn't have any alleles in common with him. And that would prove it with all certainty, instead of some questionable remains.

And after that… he shouldn't be hanging around the lab, searching through old police files if he wasn't working on a case, but he had to check out that police report about his mother's mugging. After he'd finished checking that out he'd see where to go from there.

But first things first, he'd have to talk to Horatio about the time he'd need to take off. His uncle Ron had said he'd talk to a legal councillor about the papers to transfer a coffin into another state. Ryan would see to the release of the remains, which could only be dealt with after the remains were identified.

At the moment Ryan had agreed to taking four weeks of from work to travel to Boston, arrange the funeral and deal with his mother's will and the house. His uncle had asked him whether he was going to sell the house Rachel had lived in, the house where Ryan had grown up in.

He wasn't sure if he should, but at the other hand there was no way that he could take care of it. He lived in Miami and that wasn't going to change any time soon. He wasn't going to live in it and at the moment selling it was the only option that seemed logical. He would have to look at the state of it, get it looked at and then see for how much he could sell it.

Those thoughts would have to wait, Ryan thought, as he stood in front of Horatio's door. Taking a deep breath, he knocked.

"Come in."

Horatio was sitting behind his desk, obviously doing some paperwork, but as soon as he saw Ryan he put down the pen and stood. "Mr. Wolfe, please sit down, what can I do for you?"

Ryan smiled. "Thanks H. I just wanted to talk to you about taking some time off. I've got a lot of time saved up and after talking to my uncle I'd like to request about four weeks."

One of Horatio's eyebrows went up. "Four weeks? Mr. Wolfe, are you sure that'll be enough? The loss of a family member close to you is… Are you sure you don't need more time?"

There was an odd tone to Horatio's voice and Ryan thought that the red-haired man probably knew what he was talking about. Everyone on the force knew the story about Horatio and Raymond Caine, the brothers had been quite close until Raymond had gone undercover and had eventually been killed on the job.

Ryan nodded. "Yes, I'm sure."

Horatio didn't look like convinced.

Ryan sighed. "If I find that I need more time, I'll call you and let you know."

It was enough. Horatio nodded. "Alright, I'll make up the paperwork."

"Thanks H."

He was about to turn back to the door, but hesitated. Maybe he should talk to Horatio about what had happened with the DNA-results. Horatio would help him, the older man always knew what to do.

"Is there something else you needed, Ryan?"

Ryan's eyes widened. Horatio never called him Ryan, it was always 'Mr. Wolfe". He bit his lip, maybe he should…. He shook his head.

"No, it's nothing. Will you let me know when the paperwork comes through?"

Horatio nodded. "Of course."

"Thanks again."

He closed the door behind him and briskly made his way towards the DNA lab. He didn't need anyone's help to solve this. He'd treat this like a case and go through every thing step by step. He'd set aside his emotions and just keep going until he discovered the truth about what had happened all those years ago.

He pushed against the glass door of the DNA lab and it opened smoothly. Valera looked up and sighed.

"Ryan, I understand you want to know what's going on, but those results aren't done yet."

Ryan released a chuckle. "Eum yeah, that's not really what I'm here for."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Really?"

He shrugged. "Sorta."

He pulled out the small cardboard box containing the swab and laid it on the table. "This is a swab of my uncle's DNA. Ron Wolfe is my mother's brother. I want you to use his DNA to make the identification of my mother's remains and then compare my DNA to his and see if we have any alleles in common."

She gave him a sad look. "You don't think that's going to match, do you? You don't think there was anything wrong with what's recorded as your DNA. Did your uncle say anything?"

Ryan sighed. "If my mom did adopt me, she never told him. It seemed that after my mom married my dad my uncle received a letter where she said that she was pregnant. So either she lied to him then while she adopting me, or she really was pregnant."

"And if she was pregnant, then there was something wrong with the DNA tests." Valera said.

Ryan shrugged. "Or maybe she miscarried the baby and still decided to adopt me."

"Oh." Valera said.

Ryan sighed. "There are thousands of things that could have happened or that could have been said. I have no idea what's true and what's not, but I'm going to find out. Will you do the test for me?"

She sighed and took the box. "I'll do the test for you, it probably won't be noticed anyway. A lot of samples have been added to AFIS to identify the bodies at the crash site."

He gave her one of his forced smiles and nodded. "Thanks a lot Maxine, I really appreciate it."

She sighed. "Just don't mention it to anyone alright. I don't need any trouble. But you owe me a big, huge, honkin' favour."

He grinned. "Yeah, anything."

He left the lab and made his way towards the AV-lab. He settled himself behind one of the computer and accessed the system. He bit his lip for a little bit. The mugging had happened twenty-three years ago. He added the date into the search and his parents names, that should probably do it.

He took a deep breath while the computer searched through the system.

"Hey man."

The voice startled him so much that he nearly fell out of his seat. The only way he managed to stop himself from hitting the floor was grabbing on the edge of the table and standing up quickly.

"You alright?"

Ryan turned around to see Eric standing behind him, a concerned look on his face. "Yeah, I'm fine, you just startled me that's all."

Eric smiled and then peered around Ryan's shoulder to look at the computer. "What are you doing? I thought that Horatio gave you time off?"

Ryan cleared his throat and whipped his hands on his jeans. "Yeah, eum, he did. I just… I need to check something out."

A grin spread across Eric's face. "You know you're not supposed to access the system for personal reasons, right? You're only allowed to use that for cases."

Ryan shrugged. "The stuff I'm looking at is a matter of public record, I'm just using the lab computers."

Eric's grin widened. "Really?"

Ryan rolled his eyes. "Really."

Slowly the grin faded away from Eric's face, to be replaced by a soft, concerned look. "How are you doing?"

Ryan sighed and resisted the urge to turn his back on Eric and face the computer. "I'm doing alright. I'm taking four weeks off to take care off the funeral. I eum… I need to head down to Boston with the remains as soon as they're identified."

Eric frowned. "I thought that most of the remains were identified. The only ones not identified yet are because there's no DNA in the system that matches or shows any alleles in common."

Ryan swallowed. "Eum yeah… well there's just some paperwork that needs to be done."

Eric sighed and leaned his hip against the table. "Ryan, if you don't want to tell me, just say so. Please don't lie to me."

Ryan bit his lip and briefly wondered how Eric knew he was lying.

"I know you were lying because when you do, your eyes are all of over the place."

Could Eric read minds?

"And I can't read minds, Ryan. I just… know you."

Ryan could feel a slow smile spreading over his face at the words. The thought that Eric really knew him that well was oddly satisfying. Did he know Eric that well? Could he tell Eric what was really going on?

Behind him the computer peeped, signalling that it had found something.

To Be Continued…


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

_Behind him the computer peeped, signalling that it had found something. _

Ryan glanced at the computer behind him while trying to block it from Eric's sight with his body. He turned back to Eric, who was still regarding him carefully. Ryan took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

Could he tell Eric about it now? Before he even had all the answers himself? Or should he wait until he could explain everything, until Ryan knew what was changing in his life or what had changed?

"Eric… I'm not sure about anything yet…. I need to figure it out on my own, but when I get to the bottom of this, I will tell you."

He didn't want to push Eric away, but Eric had told him not to lie to him. So Ryan wouldn't lie, he would be honest. He couldn't handle trying to explain what was going on to anyone when he didn't know what was going on himself. He couldn't handle trying to explain it to Eric.

Eric nodded slowly. His muscles were slightly tense.

"It's not that I don't trust you," Ryan said quickly, "it's just that I…"

"Need to do this own your own." Eric finished, a sombre smile on his face. He slowly stepped forward, lying a hand on Ryan's shoulder. The proximity alone was almost enough to have Ryan shaking. He needed Eric for this, but couldn't reach for him, not now.

"Listen I… I said I'd give you time, and I will. When you need to talk to me, I'll be here. When you're ready… I'll be here." Eric's voice was soft and comforting with a subtle undertone of sadness that made Ryan want to explain everything, even if it would break him apart.

Ryan nodded, relieved and Eric gave him one more smile before walking away. He watched Eric leave, trying to figure out when they started being honest with each other instead of evading and snipping and hiding behind friendly banter. After a while of coming up blank he sighed and turned back to the computer.

He sat down in front of the screen and clicked on the results to bring up the page. The date matched, twenty-three years ago, about two weeks before his birthday. Someone had seen the mugging from his apartment and had called 911, but by the time the ambulance and the police arrived at the scene it was already too late.

Rachel had been fine. There'd been a few bruises on her face and some scratches, but nothing really serious. Tom Wolfe had died at the scene. Ryan Wolfe however, had been taken to the hospital with severe head injuries. He'd died on the operating table seven hours later.

Ryan stared dumbly at the screen. This was impossible. Uncle Ron said he'd been left behind at the hotel's daycare centre. According to the police report Ryan Wolfe was dead, he was dead! He scrolled down, who'd been the investigator called to the scene?

Matthew Carter

Ryan frowned, he'd never met a Matthew Carter when he was on the force. He clicked on the name to pull up his file. The guy was retired and lived on Coconut Beach. Maybe there'd been a mistake in the file. Maybe the police report was wrong. Maybe the guy would remember.

Yeah, Ryan would go and see the guy.

Ryan swallowed and took a deep breath. His stomach clenched and rolled inside of him. A wave of nausea rolled through him. Quickly, he shut down the search, cleared the desktop of the files and almost ran out of the lab. He entered the men's bathroom and locked himself inside of one of the stalls.

He leaned over the open toilet and tried to release the vomit crawling inside of him, but nothing came out and the nausea only got worse. He took a deep breath, tried to relax, but his muscles only tensed more with his efforts.

What the hell was happening? What the hell was going on his life? The world spun on its axis and he shook his head. What was going on? What had happened all those years ago? He took another deep breath and this time the nausea found its way to his throat and he vomited violently.

He flushed once and then leaned his head back against the door of the stall. What was happening? The world was spinning, changing and everything he knew or thought he knew was being yanked from beneath his feet.

The woman who'd been his mother all his life probably wasn't his mother. The woman who'd raised him hadn't been his mother. The uncle who'd taken him fishing wasn't his uncle. He obviously wasn't the man he thought he was. The life he'd lived was filled with secrets he'd been unaware of.

Everything was unravelling, falling apart. What was happening to him? What had happened to him? Who the hell was he? Was he Ryan Wolfe and was all of this some kind of sick joke, some kind of series of mistakes in DNA tests and police reports that the universe had planned for him?

He wanted to vomit again, leaned over the edge of the toilet seat, nothing came out of his mouth. He was empty, in every sense of the word. He needed answers. He shivered in the air-conditioned bathroom. Who was the man who'd been living his life up until now?

All the memories of his life collided inside his mind. Had all those memories been lies? It all turned to shades of grey, colours faded. Everything became pale and distant. That could not have been his life, could it? What was his life now? Who was he? His identity was gone.

Unbidden, the memory of a deck with white plastic chairs and a table came into his mind. The ocean behind it, the salt of it strange in the air, the heat too sticky. Not for breakfast, but for lunch or dinner or something. The colours fairly exploded off the image. The beach, nothing else like it, so different from what he knew.

What was it that he knew?

The colours started to fade, he was back, it was familiar and greying. Meeting uncle Ron, but Ron wasn't his uncle, was he? Who was? Peter? No, Peter was a bear who didn't like to get dirty and couldn't go to the beach with them.

But Ryan had never had a bear, the faded grey image of his mother told him that Peter didn't exist, but he could have a bear if he wanted to. But Peter had been brown and he'd been a gift from his uncle. The uncle who he'd never met before.

Ron gave him a white bear with a bow around its neck as a belated birthday present. Ryan called him Tom and buried him in his toy-chest as soon as they got to Boston, never to be seen again.

He didn't like to be held. He liked the deck, wanted to go back there. They didn't have a deck. But yes they did. 'You're just tired, Ryan, honey'. The grey Rachel Wolfe told him. Go to sleep.

The green wasn't right, where was the blue and the white, the sky above his head? He'd watched his daddy paint it for him, in their new house. But no, he didn't remember his father, Tom Wolfe always carried the face of a stranger.

Of course the green was unfamiliar, the lady from the beach told him, his bedroom back in Boston had rainbow wallpaper. Ryan didn't live in Boston, he lived in a place called Miami Florida, with his parents. She laughed softly, they'd only been on vacation, they were going home in a couple of days, back to Boston.

Boston was too cold, the house was unfamiliar. The streets were grey and hostile. She made him pancakes from batter bought from the grocery store around the corner. They tasted funny. He wanted to eat on the deck, but they didn't have one.

Ryan moaned, a massive headache threatening to rip him apart by the seams. What was happening to him? His hands clutched at his head, faintly trying to make the pain go away. He dove forward right on time, bend over the toilet bowl, to spit green goo from his mouth that must have come from his empty stomach somehow.

He flushed again, images swarm in front of him, memories long suppressed by a lifetime of lies, a childhood trauma that he couldn't remember and remained elusive. The truth shimmered in the back of his head, waiting for his own strength to pull it back to the forefront, so he could remember.

He wanted his daddy! Tom is dead, the lady from the beach told him, her face a grey and black image that threatened to consume him. Your daddy isn't with us anymore, he died. His father wasn't dead, he just wasn't here. Where was his mother?

"_I'm your mother!"_

Rachel Wolfe's voice resonated inside of his skull and the images faded away, the colours of his life rushed back at him. The faces of his family, uncle Ron, his mother Rachel, the face of Tom Wolfe that he knew only from photographs. That was his life, his truth, the only truth he'd ever known.

He found himself breathing heavily, still sitting on the floor of the stall, leaning back against the door. There was a steady 'thump thump' sound behind him, vibrations against his back and his skull. Someone in the distance was calling his name.

He cleared his throat and stood on wobbly legs. Slowly he turned around and opened the door, to be greeted by the concerned face of Horatio Caine.

"Ry… Mr. Wolfe, are you alright?"

Ryan nodded. Horatio must have seen him rushing to the bathroom and decided to look after him, because Ryan was a part of his team. Ryan cleared his throat again and moved past Horatio to the sinks lining the opposite walls so he could splash cold water on his face and wash his hands.

After he dried himself off, he found his voice again. "I'm fine now."

Horatio didn't look convinced. "You sounded like you were in pain."

Ryan frowned slightly in thought, he hadn't been in pain, had he? It had just been an anxiety attack, brought on by the faulty police report and the stupid, mistaken DNA-tests. He nodded.

"I think I had an anxiety attack, but I'm fine now."

The red-haired man shook his head. "You think? Are you sure you're alright?"

Why was Horatio acting so concerned? His mother had just died, wasn't he entitled to a panic attack? He forced himself to calm down, Horatio was just concerned. The older man cared a lot about his team, every one knew that. It's not because Ryan had never quite a felt a part of that team thanks to "Mr. Wolfe" that Horatio didn't consider him a part of the team.

Ryan nodded again. "I'll be fine H, I'm just… It's a difficult time for me."

Horatio gave him a careful look, probably a little bit alarmed by the fact that Ryan was so easily admitting a weakness. Ryan always tried to deny having a problem, tried to deny being in trouble, tried to deny he wasn't feeling calm, collected, professional. Admitting that he was going through a rough patch or a difficult time, just wasn't like him.

Horatio swallowed and refused to urge to sigh. Slowly approaching the younger man until he could have laid a hand on Ryan's shoulder if he thought it was necessary.

"Ryan, if you need to talk to someone …"

Horatio allowed the end of the sentence to fade away, confident that Ryan would understand what he was trying to say. The younger man nodded, his eyes wide, surprised.

"Yes, thanks H."

He'd called Ryan by his name, his first name. Fight or flight.

Run!

"I have to go now, I've got to go and see… my uncle, for the funeral."

And he left before Horatio could answer.

To Be Continued…

Author's Note: Hey guys! First of all, I want to thank everyone for reading and reviewing, I really appreciate it

I usually update quite regularly, because I can't stand it myself if a fic takes weeks and weeks to update. However, I'm afraid I might not be updating for quite some time. I'm having surgery later today, so this will be my last post for at least a week, I think. I hope I'm back by Saturday to make my regular post, but I'm not sure. We'll have to see.

Bye!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Matthew Carter lived in a nice condo with a large window in the front and a well taken care of front lawn. Ryan just stared at the house for a while, looking at it while he sat in his car, the window rolled down and the radio playing in the background.

He wondered if he should have called first, but dismissed the matter. He needed to talk to the guy now, he couldn't wait. Then why was he still sitting in his car? Was he afraid to go in? He checked his cellphone for the twentieth time in the last half hour. But there was no message from Valera yet.

He took a deep breath and got out of the car, slamming the door behind him and locking it securely. He took a minute to just breathe in the humid Miami air and then made his way to the front door of the condo. Another deep breath and he'd rung the doorbell.

The man who opened the front door was a normal guy and Ryan didn't know what else he expected. He was medium height, medium size. He had white hair that circled around a bald patch at the top of his head. He was wearing a black pair of slacks and a pastel yellow coloured polo shirt.

"Yes, can I help you?" The guy's voice was gruff and scratchy, probably from years of smoking.

Ryan nodded. "Eum, yes. Are you Matthew Carter?"

He nodded. "Yes, that's me."

Ryan smiled. "My name is Ryan Wolfe, I'm with the Miami Dade Crime Lab. I wanted to talk to you about a case you handled about twenty-three years ago. If that's alright?"

Mr. Carter nodded. "Sure, come in. Can I get you anything?"

Ryan smiled as he stepped past Carter into a neat living area. There was a couch in the far corner flanked by two armchairs. There was a dark wooden coffee table in front of them, littered with a couple of fishing magazines and an empty cup of coffee. At the other side of the room there was a long dining table with four chairs.

"Do you have coffee?" Ryan asked.

Carter nodded. "I just made a fresh pot. I'll go and get us some. Please, sit down."

Ryan smiled. "Thank you."

He decided to sit down in one of the armchairs and looked out the window, where he could see his car parked by the curb. He wondered for a minute how exactly he would extract the information he needed, but figured he could just let the guy talk. Devoted cops could talk on for hours about a case they'd once had, if they remembered the specifics.

"Here you go."

Ryan turned back to Mr. Carter and smiled as he accepted the mug. "Thank you very much."

"No problem. So what can I do for you?"

Ryan took a careful sip of the coffee and cleared his throat, putting the coffee mug down on the coffee table. "Well, about twenty-three years ago, you investigated a mugging gone wrong. I believe the couple were tourists, Rachel and Tom Wolfe, they were here on vacation. They had a son."

The cop nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I think I know which case you mean. The son was called Ryan Wolfe wasn't he? Like you?"

Ryan nodded slowly, grimacing inside his own skull. "Yes, Tom and Rachel Wolfe are related to me."

The guy frowned. "But surely you can't be that Ryan Wolfe, the kid died on the operating table."

For a minute Ryan couldn't breath, but he quickly recovered. "I'm a distant relative, Rachel named her son Ryan and so did my mom. I'm looking into the case again because we think we might have caught the guy."

It wasn't a very good lie, it was a very bad lie. But he couldn't tell the guy what was really going on. He couldn't admit that he was really that Ryan Wolfe. Ryan gritted his teeth against the headache forming behind his right eye socket. He needed answers.

Carter nodded slowly. "I suppose that's possible. It was a pretty sad case. The couple and their son had left their hotel to go to the beach. On their way they were threatened by a guy with a gun. He shot the father to take out the biggest threat and threatened the lady. She gave him all her money, jewellery, you know the usual things."

"He had a getaway car, and hit the boy with it. The injuries from the hit with the car itself weren't too severe, but the kid had cracked his head on the pavement. I'm not sure about the medical side of it, but his brain started swelling because of a bleeding or something. They had him in surgery for about seven hours, he never made it."

Ryan swallowed, dimly aware that his heartbeat was speeding up. "You must have a great memory to remember something that happened so long ago in such accuracy."

Carter sighed. "Cases like that you don't forget easily. The woman was distraught when her son died. I was with her at the hospital when they told her the news. She just collapsed and made this keening sound… like an animal in pain."

Carter shuddered. "I don't think I ever heard anything like that before. She became hysterical after that, screaming and crying, begging the doctors to tell her that her son wasn't' dead, that he was still alive, that she wouldn't be able to handle it if he was gone. But there was nothing they could do."

"We never found the guy. There wasn't a lot of evidence to link him. We figured it was just some lowlife trying to make an easy buck by robbing a couple of tourists. He probably hadn't meant for it to go that far."

Ryan bit his lip. "Is there anything else you remember, anything odd?"

Carter frowned. "I remember bumping into Rachel Wolfe a few days after we'd closed the case. She seemed disoriented and walking around in a haze. I told her she should go and see some family, to deal with her grief. That she should go home and leave Miami to deal with everything that had happened. She told me she would and that was that."

Ryan nodded and took another sip of his coffee, downing the mug in a couple of gulps. He needed something to wash away the taste of ash in his mouth. He put the mug down again and thought deeply for a moment.

"Did you ever see her again after that?" Ryan asked.

Carter shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

Ryan nodded. "Alright, thank you for your time Mr. Carter. I should get going now."

Carter smiled and they stood. At the door they shook his hands and the older man gave him a solemn look. "You let me know if you catch the guy, you hear me."

Ryan gave him a weak smile. "I will."

The door closed and Ryan slowly walked back to his car. His cellphone rang.

"Wolfe speaking."

"Hey Ryan, it's Valera. I've got your test results… You better get over here."

"I'll be right there."

During the ride to the lab he refused to allow himself to think, refused to allow the questions to run through his head. He focused on traffic and on getting to the lab in one piece and he refused to think about anything.

He parked his car in the employee parking space and quickly got out. He jogged to the entrance and took the elevator to the correct floor. He made his way past all the glass and all the people working and stepped inside the DNA lab.

Valera was looking over some files when he came in and she quickly put them down. She gave him a concerned look and pointed to a chair. "You're going to want to sit down for this."

Ryan sat obediently.

Valera sighed.

"I confirmed your mother's remains by comparing it to the DNA sample of Ron Wolfe. I let Alexx know and she's making up the paperwork to release her remains. I ran your sample against Ron's DNA and Rachel's DNA. Ryan… I'm sorry, but no match. You're not biologically related to these people."

Ryan stared at her, a sense of vertigo coming over him. He slumped in the chair and ran a hand through his hair. "Are you sure?"

She sighed and grabbed a chair, dragging it so she could sit down next to him. "I'm sure."

Ryan didn't know what to say. Everything had just been confirmed. He was not Ryan Wolfe, he was someone else. Rachel Wolfe wasn't his mother and Tom Wolfe wasn't his father and Ron Sanderson wasn't his uncle. His whole life…

"Ryan, you need to talk about this to someone, anyone. Maybe you could talk to Horatio or Alexx? Someone you trust."

Her voice was gentle, her words carefully chosen. He could appreciate the gentle handling at this moment. For the first time in his life he felt fragile, as if one touch could break him into splinters and shards.

He took a deep breath. "Valera, I know that you've done a lot for me, lately. You've run all of these tests without telling anyone. You've kept it a secret when I asked you to. But there is one more favour I need to ask."

"What is it?" Her voice had a fearful note in it, as if she already knew what he was going to ask her. She probably did.

"I want you to run my DNA through the system to see if I get a hit."

"Ryan, I can't just…"

"Ryan Wolfe is dead!" The words slipped past his mouth into the air.

She stared at him. "What? What do you mean?"

Ryan swallowed. "Twenty-three years ago, Rachel, Tom and Ryan Wolfe were in Miami on vacation. They got mugged. Tom Wolfe got shot and he died. Ryan Wolfe was ran over by a car and died during surgery seven hours later. Rachel Wolfe was the only survivor."

"I don't know what all of this means yet, what the whole picture is when I put everything together. But your DNA tests confirm that I'm not Ryan Wolfe, I'm someone else. I need to know who I am."

Valera bit her lip. "Can't you check records or something if you're mom adopted you?"

"Valera! There wasn't time to adopt me!" And finally, he allowed the thoughts to filter from the back of his skull to the front of his mind and out of his mouth. "Ryan and Tom Wolfe died two weeks before Rachel arrived at Ron's doorstep with me at her side! Adoption takes years, not two weeks!"

"There is absolutely no way that she adopted me. So… if she didn't adopt me, how did she manage to show up with a kid, with me, at my uncle's doorstep after her own child died? It's so odd…Ryan Wolfe and I were the same age, we even looked alike. And unless she managed to raise me from the grave, she….she…"

Ryan's throat clogged up and his voice got lost somewhere between his mouth and his vocal cords. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, until he closed it with a snap. His breathing was heavy and his hands were clenched into fists.

Valera was staring at him. "You think she kidnapped you."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

To Be Continued…

Author's Note: You might have noticed that Ron's last name suddenly went from Wolfe to Sanderson. That's because criminally charmed from pointed out to me that Ron is Rachel's brother and unless Rachel had the same last name as her husband, namely Wolfe, that it's impossible for Ron to be a Wolfe too.  
I can't believe I missed that, I was so careful with everything, to make sure that everything fit and I made a huge mistake like that :p. So I'm going changing Ron's last name to Sanderson and when I've got the time I'll check all the previous chapters and fix the mistake.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Valera sighed and shook her head. "Ryan…"

Ryan stood quickly. "You don't have to run my DNA through the system to look for a match. I want you to compare my DNA to the DNA from unresolved kidnap cases."

She looked hesitant, but eventually she nodded. "Alright, I will. But I don't want to know the results. I'll program the search to send the results to your email account instead of popping up here. Afterwards I'll delete the search from the records, along with the comparisons of your DNA to your mother's and your uncle's and to all the other remains. No one has to know."

He nodded. "Alright. Thank you Valera, I really appreciate that you're doing this for me."

A pained expression flitted over her face. "Ryan, you're a good friend and I'd do anything to help you. But just so you know, you owe me big."

A chuckle escaped Ryan's mouth and he gave her a tired smile. "I know, trust me, I know."

He watched as she set up the search, typing away at the keyboard with such an air of ease and familiarity that it was obvious she'd done it a million times before. She shot him a glance from the corner of her eyes.

"You should talk to someone about this Ryan." She said softly.

Ryan closed his eyes and nodded. He knew he should talk to someone, get it out in the open, make him say the words without choking on them. But that would mean facing everything, dealing with everything and he couldn't allow himself to feel anything until he knew the whole picture.

Maybe there was something that he hadn't seen, maybe his whole theory was faulty. Maybe Rachel Wolfe had adopted him, or maybe she'd wanted to adopt a child after she'd had the original Ryan Wolfe and she'd gone through all the years of scanning and screening and finding someone to adopt before.

But that didn't explain why his name was Ryan Wolfe, if she'd adopted him at the same age Ryan Wolfe died, he would have already had a name. And if she changed it, why would she want his name to be the same as her dead son, wouldn't that make it harder on her instead of easier?

Ryan sighed. "I probably should but… I want to wait until I know the whole story and I can explain it properly. Right now, I don't even know anything for sure yet. I'm just waiting for the results."

She gave him a disbelieving look and made an 'uh-huh' noise in the back of her throat. "Or maybe you just don't want to deal with any of this, emotionally that is."

Ryan shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Maybe."

"Do you have any idea what you're going to do when you get the results?" Valera asked.

Ryan didn't answer, merely staring out into space. What would he do after he got the results? Would he go look up his parents and suddenly show up at their doorstep? Would everything he'd been doubting in his life suddenly fall into place? Would everything be okay again? Would it change the way he saw himself? Would it change who he was?

It wouldn't, Ryan reflected, change anything about his OCD, or whether he was qualified to do his job. It wouldn't change anything about his somewhat poor people skills and it wouldn't change his professionalism on the job. It wouldn't change the way he felt about the team, it wouldn't change his feelings for Eric…

But he'd have to redefine everything in his life. He'd have to redefine the people who he'd considered his family all his life, Ron Sanderson, and the deceased Rachel and Tom Wolfe. But most importantly…he'd have to find his real family. He'd have to find the people Rachel Wolfe had snatched him from.

"Ryan? ….Ryan!"

Valera's voice snatched his mind away from space and back to earth. He blinked a couple of times and then shook his head, shaking out the cobwebs.

"Yeah?"

She gave him an odd look. "The comparison is going to take a while, definitely a couple of hours if not a whole day. You should go home and get some rest."

Ryan shook his head. "No, I …. I need to let uncle Ron know that the release of the remains is in order and that we can pick them up. Then we'll have to set on a date for the funeral and I'm going to look into plane tickets and stuff."

"Ryan, you really should talk to someone."

Ryan sighed. "I will."

She looked doubtful, she probably knew he was lying, but nodded anyway and acting on impulse, he gave her a hug. "Thanks for everything, Valera."

She hugged him back, squeezing him to her tightly. "No problem, just remember…"

"I owe you big," Ryan said, smiling slightly, "I got it."

He left the DNA lab behind him and walked through the halls of the lab. Through the glass walls he could see everybody working, analyzing evidence, doing paperwork. In the fingerprint lab he could see Eric bend over a worktable, peering over two prints. Ryan almost changed direction, almost decided to go over there and talk to him, but in the end he kept going for the elevator.

He pushed the button for the garage and leaned against the far wall as the metal box took him down. He needed to see uncle Ron and make some phone calls and take a look into securing papers to transport a coffin, he needed to go see someone about the coffin too. He needed to make a guest list for the funeral and he needed to talk to a priest and arrange flowers and whatnot.

But for now, he'd go home, log in on the internet and wait for the test results to be sent to him. He could make a few phone calls while waited, he could watch some TV, or read some books or do whatever. It wouldn't stop him from waiting, those test results were the most important thing in his life right now.

He hadn't decided yet what he would do when he finally got the test results, it would probably depend on what they were. For all he knew his real family was dead, or had moved to another part of the country or maybe the test results would come back negative and he wouldn't find his real family at all. He'd cross that bridge when he got there.

With a little ping the elevator doors opened and Ryan stepped into the garage. He made his way to his car quickly and got in. The drive home didn't take very long. He didn't live very far from the crime lab, it was one of the reasons he'd gotten the condo in the first place.

He parked his car in the driveway and entered his condo. Everything was neat and its place, that was how Ryan liked things. That was how his life had been up until now. The earth felt darker, different, changed.

Things would be different from now on, he just didn't know how different they would be. He would go on, as he always had when life struck him a blow. But things would be different, for good or for worse, he couldn't tell.

He brought his laptop out on the deck and sat in one of the chairs, watching the world around him. A cool breeze rustled the short strands of his hair and he closed his eyes to savour some release to the heat that covered Miami in almost all hours of the day. He idly watched the sky, the blue and white clouds drifting across the vast expanse of space.

He turned back to the laptop and logged on to his e-mail account. There wasn't anything new in his inbox yet. The comparisons probably hadn't been completed yet. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, suddenly anxious. He needed to know those results, needed to know who his parents were.

Sighing he stood from the deck and headed to the kitchen. He should make himself something to eat and relax for a while. He opened the refrigerator and peered inside, but nothing looked appetizing. He took a look in the pantry, but nothing caught his eye. He looked over the rarely used take-way menus, but there wasn't anything of interest.

Grumbling to himself he headed back out on the deck and checked his mail again, nothing new. He knew that his lack of an appetite was probably due to the nervous fluttering in his belly, but there was nothing he could do about it. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

Deciding that he should probably get some work done while he waited, he sent an e-mail to Ron about the arrangements for the funeral. He sent another e-mail to Alexx about the remains of Rachel Wolfe. He started working on a guest-list, he knew most of the people his mother had contact with who'd come to her funeral. He would check her little black book after he got to Boston.

He also needed someone to look after his place while he was in Boston, which would be at least four months. He needed someone to water his plants and check up on the place every once in a while. He'd ask Alexx, she wouldn't mind. He started making a list of everything he should take with him to Boston and after that he started considering what he would do with Rachel's stuff.

It surprised him how it easy it was to switch from 'mom' to 'Rachel' inside his own head. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. She wasn't his mother, she never had been and that intense feeling that something was simply 'wrong' had lessened in his chest.

On the other hand, the panic flittered just on the edge of his consciousness. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he succumbed to it. His name wasn't Ryan Wolfe, it wasn't his real name, the name he'd carried with him all his life, and the family that was tied to it, wasn't his. It was all so overwhelming and Ryan didn't know how he'd come to terms with it.

He'd just finished considering if he should give a speech at the funeral or leave that up to Ron when the computer beeped. His muscles tensed and he swallowed. His fingers flew over the keyboard and he opened his inbox. There was one new e-mail.

He took a deep breath and opened the mail. As he slowly read through the results his eyes widened and he could feel the breath leaving his lungs in a great gasp. His fingers clenched the tabletop until his knuckles turned white and he thought he might faint any minute.

Match: Horatio Caine and Laura Haigh

To Be Continued…


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Boston was cold and dreary that time of year and the sky was overcast with dark, grey clouds on the day of the funeral. Ryan had decided to forgo the speech, instead uncle Ron had said a few words and some colleagues of his mother had offered some memories to the group of people who'd come to pay their respects.

Ryan had been there because uncle Ron had expected him to be there, because the world expected him to be there. But if it had been up to Ryan, he might not have gone at all. It was difficult now, to have respect for this woman. She'd torn him away from his family, away from his real parents and now his mind was constantly awhirl with how life might have turned out to be if he'd grown up with his real parents…. Horatio Caine and Laura Haigh.

Ryan stopped folding some of his mother's clothes and looked out the window, where the rain was clattering against the glass. He sighed and put down the clothes and looked around the room. Rachel had liked dark colours for her bedroom as attested by the dark green paint covering the walls and the dark wooden furniture.

It was still difficult to believe and sometimes the knowledge just hit him like a sledgehammer. Horatio Caine was his father. And there was no way he could deny it, because the evidence was clear cut and Ryan just couldn't ignore it. He was trained to follow the evidence, and the evidence had brought him to a certain red-haired man who happened to be his boss.

He'd spent quite some time panicking at home in Miami after he'd read the DNA results and for a blindingly clear moment he'd been glad that Horatio, a man he respected and admired, was his father. Then he'd been falling to his knees, the tears streaking down his face as the painful truth of what his mother must have done, what Rachel must have done, exploded across his vision.

He'd screamed and yelled and broken a few coffee mugs in a moment of rage and pain. The tears had clogged his throat and the anger had burned so hotly through his veins that for a moment he'd thought he'd faint with the power of it.

He'd panicked, his emotions rolling around inside of him and he'd been unable to deal with all of them at the same time. Finally, he'd locked himself away from the world and had hidden under the covers, curled up on his bed, allowing the tears to leak from his eyes. He'd fallen asleep not too long after that.

In the morning he'd woken up with, his head and body aching as if the sorrow in his heart had transformed itself into physical pain over night. Perhaps it had. He'd taken a shower and gotten dressed, struggling to keep his towering emotions at bay. He'd gone to the lab one last time that week.

No doubt he'd looked haggard when he'd come in, the skin around his eyes still red and a tired expression on his face. Many people thought he'd been mourning his mother and they'd looked away, carefully muttering some condolences. But Ryan hadn't been listening, eager to get to Alexx and sign some papers for the remains. After that he'd needed to settle some last things with Horatio.

Horatio….

He'd hardly been able to look at the older man, unsure of how to act, what to say. He still hadn't understood back then, had still been confused by how it was possible and he'd found himself staring at the man, trying to find some trace in those features that might be found in Ryan's too.

Horatio had asked him if everything was alright and Ryan had quickly nodded, leaving the office behind him. He'd looked back once, almost turning around and telling Horatio what he'd found, what had happened. He'd almost gone back to ask Horatio to explain, to help him understand. But he hadn't.

He'd gone to the AV lab to access a computer and had searched for clues. The information he'd found was staring and the only thing keeping him together when he figured out the pieces of the puzzles, was the fact that he was still in the lab and that anyone could see him.

Flash Back

He started the search and scrolled through the pages of information. First things first, he looked up Laura Haigh and Horatio Caine's records. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears, now that he was so close to knowing the truth, to figuring out what had happened. He swallowed and took a careful glance around the lab, but no one was watching.

Horatio and Laura had been married in New York, about two years after that Laura had given birth to a son, Ryan Raymond Caine.

Ryan stared at the name for a while, maybe that was why Horatio could never say his name. He swallowed again, it seemed that his name was Ryan… just not Wolfe. He quickly swallowed a hysterical giggle that threatened to escape his mouth at the thought.

A couple of years later they'd moved to Miami. Horatio Caine had risen in the ranks and had gotten a job offer there. They'd only been in Miami for a week when tragedy struck.

Their son had been kidnapped on a trip to the beach. They informed the authorities, gave statements, gave DNA for reference material, had their house searched all in an efforts to find their son. But Ryan Raymond Caine seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth and they never found him again.

Ryan re-read the police-report over five times and checked the dates. Everything fit. A hazy memory managed to slip through the barriers he'd erected in his mind to block of the memories of his past life.

"_Ma'am, are you okay?" _

"_I'm … I'm alright… What's your name? You look like someone I …used to know." _

"_My name's Ryan, ma'am." _

"_Ryan…"_

Ryan shook off the memory, a chill running down his spine. He quickly punched in a few keys and continued reading.

Horatio and Laura had filed for divorce about three years after that. Laura had moved to a flat close to the child-services head-quarters and Horatio had stayed in the house they'd lived in together.

A half an hour later, after re-checking all the facts he'd closed the search. He'd found all the information he'd be able to find in the system, all his other questions could only be answered by real people, but he wasn't ready to confront anyone yet.

He needed time to come to grips with everything he'd discovered, he needed time to figure out what he wanted to do. He closed his eyes and sighed. It was time to say his goodbye's.

End Flashback

So he'd said his goodbye's to the people in the lab and had gone to Boston.

Eric had hugged him close and Ryan had buried his face in Eric's strong chest. He'd felt safe in that moment, sheltered form the turmoil the outside world represented and he'd wanted to hold on to that feeling forever. But in the end, he'd let go and walked away.

Flashback

"Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Eric's voice was soft and careful, as if worried that one wrong word might shatter Ryan.

Ryan supposed that he did look fragile in that moment. He hadn't slept the previous night, his head spinning with the DNA results. He felt tired and raw, a whole layer of lies had been scrubbed from his life and something new and undefined lied beneath. He needed time, time away from Miami. For the first time in his life, he needed to go to Boston.

"I'm going to be fine, Eric, don't worry so much." Ryan said, giving the slightly older man a soft smile.

Eric hesitated and then drew Ryan close, hugging him and Ryan relaxed his tense muscles for the first time that day since he'd woken up. He wrapped his arms around Eric's waist while he buried his head in Eric's chest.

"Thank you." He tried to mumble into the shirt-covered muscles beneath his mouth, but it came out strangled and sounded more like a sob. "I love you." He whispered after that, but no sound seemed to leave his throat.

Eric's hand was slowly stroking his hair and he murmured something in Ryan's hear that was difficult to make it out. Finally, Ryan pulled away and gave Eric a watery smile.

End Flashback

And now he was in Boston, slowly coming to terms with everything that had happened. As he packed away all of his mother's stuff, some for charity and some things to throw away, he sorted through all his inner demons, his fears, his anger. And sometimes a memory he'd never had before would surface.

When he'd been looking through all the things in the attic, he'd found his old toy-chest. Filled with curiosity, he'd opened it and looked through all his old toys, his old chemistry sets and detective story books. At the very bottom, he'd come upon the once white, now grey-looking bear Ron had given him.

In a flash he'd remembered Peter, the one Raymond Caine had given to him when he'd been little. He could remember that Peter didn't like baths and that he hated broccoli and that Peter helped him fight off the monsters underneath his bed. This time, the memory had stayed with him.

When more and more memories started to resurface he'd pushed his pride aside and gone to see a shrink. Ron had thought it would be a good idea to deal with his grief, since he didn't appear to be grieving. Ryan had used the excuse to go and find out more oppressed memory.

He'd asked the therapist about oppressed memories and she'd told him that some memories were locked away inside someone's head after a traumatic experience as a self-defence mechanism.

From the conversation Ryan had deduced that after he'd been kidnapped by Rachel that he'd 'forgotten' everything about his previous childhood with his real parents, but subconsciously some things he'd never forgotten. He'd never forgotten that Miami was home and that Boston was a place he was forced to live in. He'd never really forgotten the deck. He'd never really forgotten Peter.

He figured that, now that he knew the truth, the memories were finally surfacing for real and now that he knew they were true, they stayed with him.

When he packed away all the stuff in the kitchen, he could remember watching pancakes being flipped in the air and a voice telling him that they tasted better if they were self-made from scratch. If he focused on the memory sometimes he could hear Horatio's voice saying it. He sounded… happy.

When he cleared out all the photo's and memorabilia from the mantelpiece he could remember a woman with brown hair and delicate hands putting pictures on a mantelpiece. She pointed at one of the pictures and said: "That's your daddy and I on our wedding day."

With a sigh he moved the piles of clothes in garbage bags. It was easier to remember things and places and scents and sounds then faces or people. It bothered him that he couldn't remember faces, he wanted to remember his mother's face, his father's face. But he couldn't.

When he thought of Horatio, he always saw the man as he knew him now, as his boss, with deep lines on his face and neat red hair and dark suits. When he thought of Laura, he saw a brown-haired woman in the distance. He'd never seen her up-close.

Ryan shook his head and carried all the bags downstairs. He cleaned out the rest of Rachel's possessions from her bedroom and made himself something to eat in the practically bare kitchen. After he washed the dishes he went up the guest bedroom where he laid down on the bed to get some sleep.

Ron had slept in the guest bedroom during his stay in Boston and Ryan had slept in the bed he'd slept in as a child. But as soon as he'd convinced Ron to go back to Miami he'd moved in to the guest bedroom.

He lay awake for quite a while, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the days to come. He'd use the rest of the week to clean out the rest of Rachel's stuff and then put the house up for sale. After that he'd go back to Miami and… he wasn't sure yet what he'd do after that. He'd have to tell Horatio and he'd have to tell Ron, he just didn't know how yet…

_His daddy was helping him put all his stuff in the boxes for the move to Miami. Ryan wasn't sure how he should feel about the move, but his father said he'd like Miami and his father was always right. _

"_Do you want to put Peter in the boxes or do you want to carry him in your backpack?" His father asked him, while putting some of his toys in one of the boxes. _

_Ryan shook his head vehemently and hugged Peter close to him. "I want to keep him in my backpack. What if it's dark in the boxes and Peter gets scared? I don't want him to be scared." _

_His daddy laughed and tousled his hair. "You're right. We don't want Peter to be scared, so we'll carry him with us." _

In his sleep, Ryan Raymond Caine smiled.

To Be Continued…


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Valera jumped when the phone rang. She released a deep sigh and reached for it. Ever since she'd done the DNA tests for Ryan she'd been jumpy, guilty conscience and all of that. Ryan hadn't mentioned anything about the results of the final DNA test to her and while she was grateful that she wasn't involved anymore then she already was, a part of her was curious like hell.

"DNA lab, Maxine Valera speaking." She said into the phone.

"Valera, it's Horatio. Could you come to my office please? I have a problem with some of the DNA records and I think that you can help me."

Valera froze.

"Valera?"

Valera coughed. "Eum yes, I'll… I'll be right there."

She hung up and started to undo her labcoat nervously. Horatio wasn't the kind of boss who phoned his employees and told them to come to his office. If he had a problem he usually went to find them in the lab to confront them about it, except if it was something serious he wanted to keep out of the gossip mill.

If a conversation was executed in a lab with glass walls filled with people who were trained to notice the usual and the unusual, you could be sure that everyone knew the topic of conversation within half an hour.

Valera swallowed and wipped her sweaty palms on her jeans. There was only one thing she could think of that Horatio might want to talk to her about in his office and she had no idea how he could possibly know about that. She'd deleted all the records of the search, hadn't she?

She walked calmly through the lab, not letting anyone see her nervousness. When she got to Horatio's office, she saw that the blinds were already drawn and took a deep breath. Horatio was a nice boss, the kind who was always on your side if you got into a scrap, but in exchange for that he expected trust and honesty.

She knocked on the door.

"Come in."

She went in.

Horatio was sitting behind his desk, going over some paperwork. He put aside his pen as soon as he saw it was her and motioned for her to sit in one of the comfy chairs in front of his desk. She gave him a tight lipped smile and sat down.

"So what can I help you with?" Valera asked.

Horatio fixed her with one of his looks.

"I was going over the records for all DNA searches and comparisons over the last six months and I came across something unusual. It seemed that about two weeks ago a series of DNA tests were performed but deleted from the records afterwards. Thank God for the back up system or we never might have known."

Valera quickly suppressed the groan threatening to escape her lips.

She'd forgotten all about the back up system. The back-up system was designed specifically for situations like Valera had created or to serve as evidence in cases when the defence was claiming contaminated evidence. It recorded all the tests that were run in the lab and recorded anyone who altered the records. It was a way to prevent any tampering with evidence. Only the head of the lab and other high-ranking officials had access to the back-up system.

This was her chance to come clean, if she told Horatio everything now he'd probably give her an official reprimand, give her two weeks of probation and that would be that. If she didn't come clean now, she could probably expect a formal investigation and maybe even a pink slip afterwards.

She lowered her head, looking at her knees, feeling like a schoolgirl being punished by the headmaster. "I deleted those tests."

"Go on, Valera."

She looked up at Horatio, seeing the neutral expression on his face and sighed.

"I did the tests for Ryan, as you probably know." She said.

Horatio nodded. "Yes, it seems that Rachel Wolfe is not Ryan Wolfe's mother. I suppose you that Mr. Wolfe was adopted and that you didn't know and that's why you compared all the other remaining DNA to Mr. Wolfe's DNA. Afterwards Mr. Wolfe gave you the DNA of Ron Sanderson, Rachel Wolfe's brother, for comparison, everything matched up. What I don't understand is why you deleted the tests from the records except for the one with Ron Sanderson's DNA."

Horatio's voice was neutral and yet cold at the same time, as if he was steeling himself.

Valera twisted her hands in her lap. "Because Ryan didn't know, he didn't know that Rachel Wolfe wasn't his biological mother. At first we thought there might be something wrong with what was registered as Ryan's DNA. But when the results of the comparison between the remains and the DNA of Ron Sanderson came back positive, and the remains were no match to Ryan, and Ron's DNA didn't match Ryan's either, we knew for sure. I deleted them because I thought that this way, no one would know. I didn't think there was any harm in it, I'd completely forgotten about the back up file."

Horatio regarded her carefully. "That does explain why you ran the final test you deleted from the system, you ran Mr. Wolfe's DNA through CODIS, against unsolved kidnap cases. Ryan thought he'd been kidnapped as a child?"

There was something odd in Horatio's expression now, something almost eager, almost hopeful. But it was fleeting and weak, as if Horatio was ruthlessly suppressing it.

Valera nodded, painfully aware of the fact that she was breaking Ryan's trust yet feeling that she didn't have another choice. "Ryan suspected it. He asked me to run his DNA through the system. So I did. I programmed the search to deliver the results in his mailbox so that the results wouldn't end up in our system and to automatically delete the search from the records afterwards."

Horatio nodded stiffly, his eyes bright and his fingers tapped idly against some of the papers on his desk. Valera watched the normally composed Horatio Caine positively thrumming with suppressed energy.

"So Ryan knows the results of the test?" Horatio asked.

Valera nodded.

"He didn't mention anything of the results to you?"

Valera shook her head.

Horatio nodded. "Alright then. Valera it's against protocol and policy to delete any tests from the records. Therefore I'm giving you an official reprimand in your file and two weeks of probation starting tomorrow. You can use today to get your things together and finish up on your paperwork and your cases."

Valera nodded again. "Yes sir, thank you sir." She knew she'd gotten off light. She got up from her seat and walked towards the door.

"Valera?"

She stopped and turned around. "Yes Horatio?"

"I want you to run Ryan's DNA through CODIS and compare it to every unsolved kidnap case and program the search to send the results to my mailbox."

She gave him a confused look. "H?"

He gave her a tight smile. "Just do it Valera."

Another unusual request from Horatio, she nodded and left the office.

It was irrational, Horatio thought, he hardly had any evidence for it at all and yet… He tapped his fingers against the paperwork. His Ryan would have been the same age Ryan Wolfe now was. And Horatio was well aware of how much they looked alike, the same brown hair, the same hazel eyes, they even had the same facial structure. But Horatio had always chosen to close his eyes to it. It had been too difficult to look at Ryan and recognize the similarities.

But now, his fingers tapped on the paperwork again, now his gut, his instinct, was screaming at him. As soon as he'd seen the missing tests in the back-up records and he'd seen the results of the comparisons to Ryan's DNA, something had snapped to life inside of him and he'd opened his eyes.

He hadn't dared to hope, he'd told himself that Ryan was adopted and that the next test had perhaps been a flaw, a fluke, on Valera's part. He hadn't been able to allow himself to believe, to have hope. What were the odds that his son ended up working for him without either of them knowing that they were father and son?

Even now he hardly dared to hope, hardly dared to believe that it might be possible, that it might be true. It seemed impossible that after all those years he'd finally found his son again. It seemed impossible that the little boy who'd counted on Horatio to tuck him in at night was the same grown man who hardly needed any help at all?

Was his son the same man as the one who'd worked for Horatio for nearly two and a half years now, the same man who'd gotten shot in the eye with a nailgun? Were Ryan Wolfe and Ryan Caine the same person? Only DNA could tell.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. His eyes wandered to the phone but he stubbornly went back to his paperwork. He wouldn't call Laura, he'd call her after he'd gotten the test results and he knew for sure that Ryan … that Ryan was theirs.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on the paperwork. He'd focus on his next course of action after he had all the facts.

To Be Continued…


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Laura Haigh had moved to her current apartment for two reasons; it was close to her work and the view was incredible. It wasn't a very big apartment, but considering it was just her, she didn't mind very much. It had a small kitchen attached to the living room through a breakfast bar and a small bedroom with an attached bathroom. Some would call it tiny, but she called it cosy.

She didn't invite a lot of people over, if she got together with friends they usually went somewhere to eat. The only person who'd actually been to her apartment more then once beside herself, was Frank. He was a close friend and didn't question why she lived alone when she had a wedding picture and a baby picture hanging on the far left wall of the living room. They were the only two memorabilia in the room.

She didn't mention a lot about her life to her co-workers, some who she considered friends. It was too difficult to talk about it, even now. It was a well known fact that she was single and didn't have any children, but only a select few people who she'd known from her previous life knew that she was divorced and that she'd lost a child.

It was difficult on some days. Some days all she could think about was her child, her son, her boy. Sometimes all she could do was focus on her job but burst into tears the minute she came home from work. Those days had occurred less and less as the years passed, but they still happened every once in a while. All those years had passed and she still couldn't let it go. She couldn't stand to think about it, but she couldn't help it.

She couldn't accept that he was dead. She knew that Horatio did, that for him it was a source of comfort to believe Ryan had been killed instead of sold into child slavery or prostitution. She knew that for him, Ryan being dead was comforting as well as torture. But she couldn't dare to contemplate that he was dead. She didn't know if that made her a bad mother or not.

Today was a good day. She hadn't thought about Ryan or Horatio once since she'd woken up in the morning and had rolled over, expecting to snuggle up to a warm body. She still hadn't gotten used to sleeping alone, even though the years she'd slept beside her husband were far less in number then the years she'd spent the night alone.

After she came home from work, she kicked off her shoes by the door and changed into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a tank top. Her hair was collected in a bun and she padded around her apartment in bare feet. She made hot water to prepare some tea, preferring coffee only in the mornings. After musing through her kitchen cabinets she decided that she'd order out for once. She'd forgotten to pick up her groceries the day before and she didn't feel like going to the store today.

She'd just decided on pizza after flipping through the small stack of take-out menus near the phone when there was a knock on the door. She frowned slightly as she put aside the menu and went to answer it. She wasn't used to people showing up at her door.

"Horatio?"

She could feel the surprise curling around her insides. Her eyes had widened slightly when she saw him standing before her in a smart, dark suit and his overall neat and professional appearance made her feel slightly underdressed in her comfortable sweats.

He had never come to see her at her apartment before. He knew where she lived, of course he did, but he'd never actively used that knowledge. The surprising flutters in her stomach flared up again, as they had when she'd seen him that day in the lab. She took a few moments to simply breathe in his presence. And then…. Why was he here?

"Horatio?" she asked again, this time directed at him instead at the air in surprise.

He gave her a smile and it was brighter then she'd ever seen it and now she noticed. She saw the way his shoulders were relaxed, instead of the tight tension she'd gotten used to seeing. She saw the way his face seemed younger, the way there was an air of joy around him that had gone missing as their son had.

"Can I come in?"

His voice was smooth, the words floating gently in the air between them. She took a deep breath and stepped aside in silent invitation. His arm brushed against hers as he moved inside. She closed the door behind him and rested her forehead against the wooden surface for a second, taking a moment to collect herself.

Behind her, he didn't move, allowing her this moment, giving it to her as he always had when she needed it. That he could still read her so well after all those years, that he still knew those defining traits and that he still cared enough to reach out to her with silence and distance when she needed him to, made her smile.

She pulled away after a few seconds and moved around him to invite him further into her home. Her fingers itched with the sudden desire to snatch away her wedding picture from the wall before he could see it, but he probably already had. She ruthlessly suppressed the urge, there was no reason to be embarrassed for holding on to that memory.

She motioned for him to sit, not trusting her voice to speak without cracking but he merely gave her that smile again, relaxed and smooth. Slowly he reached in the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it, smoothing out the edges with his hands carefully and laid it on the breakfast bar.

"I've found him."

For one whole second the words didn't make any sense, but then understanding burst through and her heart started beating wildly. She looked at him, her eyes once again seeking out the things she noticed before, the signs of released stress and the peace that hung around him like a cloak.

His eyes held hers, calm blue and reassuring, comforting in a way that she hadn't been able to handle right after Ryan had disappeared. She stepped away from him and she shook her head briefly, unable to process it. It was not possible, it was not possible.

Horatio reached out with one hand and touched her shoulders, his fingers wrapping around the naked skin and squeezing before turning her slightly towards the breakfast bar. He released her. She reached out with one hand and grasped the sheet of paper he'd laid out, picking it up so she could read it.

Laura was familiar with DNA test results, unfortunately she was confronted with them quite often in sexual abuse cases. Her eyes easily picked out the similarities, the comparisons, the results. Her brain automatically deduced the meaning of the words, it was easy. Something inside her chest melted.

_Ryan Wolfe_

_Positive. _

Relief swept through her chest and for a moment it seemed as if the world stopped spinning around her. All her hopes, beliefs and fears crashed together, flowing through each other, the components mingling and breaking, forming and reforming. Something tight relaxed.

_I've found him…_

_Ryan…_

Her hand clenched around the paper, crumpling it. Her hand shook and she could feel tears stinging her eyes. Her breathing hitched, this was impossible. It had been so long, too long and yet… DNA didn't lie, evidence didn't lie. It was the truth, the irrevocable, unquestionable truth.

Two tears rolled down her cheeks, followed by others and a small, keening wail erupted from her lips. She pressed her hand against her mouth, forcing the sob back inside. She closed her eyes, tears escaping down her face. It had been so long, so many years.

_Ryan…_

Hands settled on her shoulders, pulling her sideways against Horatio's chest. She crushed the sheet of paper to her chest and grasped his upper arm tightly with her other hand. She rested her head against his shoulder and released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"Are you sure?"

Her voice had that deep, hoarse sound to it that meant the speaker had been crying, or was fighting back tears. The lump in her throat refused to move. She knew that it was a stupid question, she had the evidence in her hands. But she still doubted it, all those years of waiting…. She couldn't help it, if Horatio was sure, if he knew beyond a doubt that it was true…

"I'm sure."

His voice had that same deep, hoarse sound to it and Laura smiled through her tears. She released his arm and turned so she could hug him to her fully, her arms wrapping around his waist. She pressed her face against his shoulder as his arms went around her. She wasn't sure how long they stood there, tears streaming down her face, drenching his suit jacket. But finally, she pulled away with a laugh and shook her head, brushing away the tears.

She once again read over the results of the DNA test, the sheet of paper now completely wrinkled and tear-stained. An excited flutter started in her belly, spreading warmth through her entire body and another laugh escaped her mouth.

She could hear Horatio's chuckle ringing in her ear and with another bark of laughter threw her arms around his neck and jumped into his arms.

"You've found him! You've found him!"

Horatio laughed and hugged her back and the incredible joy that bubbled up inside of her made her want to jump up and down and squeal uncontrollably. She pulled away from him and once again looked at the sheet of paper, a huge grin nearly splitting her face in half.

"I'm going to have this framed."

Horatio laughed at her words. "As long as I can get a copy."

Her smile widened. "Where is he?"

Horatio's smile softened and he sighed. "That's a conversation we're going to need coffee for, or alcohol."

Her eyes widened. "He's not hurt, is he? Or in trouble? Or in jail?"

He quickly shook his head, laying a hand on her shoulder. "No, none of those things, don't worry. He's fine."

She breathed a sigh of relief, the butterflies in her stomach working over time. She tried to calm herself down, but it didn't work. She smiled. "I was going to order some pizza, you want some? I have some wine in the pantry."

"I'll some have pizza, I haven't eaten yet."

She grinned at him. "Still pepperoni with pineapple?"

He nodded.

She shook her head and picked up the phone. "I can't believe you can eat that stuff. It's disgusting."

Horatio smiled. "Ryan used to like it."

Laura chuckled. "Yeah, he did."

To Be Continued


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Some things never changed, no matter how much time passed. Laura still liked red wine with her pizza and Horatio's favourite pizza was still pepperoni and pineapple. The red wine Laura preferred was still smooth and gentle, with a nutty aftertaste. And the pepperoni and pineapple pizza was still disgusting.

They'd reclined on the sofas, the plates and glasses on the coffee table between them. Laura was sitting on the end near the window, the last few rays of the sun hitting the side of her face. Horatio was sitting on the other end, the one near the breakfast bar, his eyes flickered briefly to the wedding picture hanging on the wall.

His suit jacket was hanging over one of the barstools and his shoes had been kicked off, landing underneath the coffee table. He took a bite from his pizza thoughtfully, smiling as Laura grimaced and took a bite of her own pizza.

He briefly debated to himself where to start the story, from the first moment he'd met Ryan or from the first moment he'd seen the back up records and had gotten that feeling in his gut, the one that said that something was up, something was wrong, something was… missing.

Laura was looking at him while she took a sip from her red wine and Horatio decided that it was high time he started talking. She wouldn't wait forever.

"His name is, or he thinks his name is…. He goes by the name of Ryan Wolfe."

God, that was confusing!

"He's been working at the crime lab for almost two and a half years now and during all this time I never knew he was… ours."

Horatio knew he sounded mildly surprised, but he could hardly be faulted for that. If your son was kidnapped years ago as a little boy, you hardly expected him to show up one day at a crime scene, offering a list of cameras that might have recorded something of the crime. Horatio certainly never had, so he never had looked further into Ryan's history except for the usual necessary background check.

"After all, I don't usually do DNA comparisons to random strangers in case they might be my long lost son."

Laura laughed softly at the attempt of humour. He grinned at her. "About two weeks ago, his… the woman who raised him, the woman who kidnapped him, she died in a plane crash. She was coming to visit Ryan in Miami and was flying down from Boston. Her name was Rachel Wolfe. The identifications of the remains were secured through dental records and DNA comparisons."

"Ryan's DNA didn't match Rachel Wolfe's, whose remains were identified with dental records and eventually confirmed through DNA comparison with her brother, Ron Sanderson. Ryan convinced Valera, one of our lab technicians, to compare his DNA to DNA evidence in unsolved kidnap cases. The results weren't recorded in the records even though the test was, and then send to Ryan's mailbox."

Laura frowned slightly, swirling the wine in her glass. "So Ryan knows that we're his parents?"

Horatio nodded.

"And he found this out… two weeks ago?"

Horatio nodded again.

"How did you find out? Did he confront you?"

Horatio shook his head. "No, he… simply took Rachel Wolfe's remains to Boston for burial. He's still there, he took some time off to get her things in order. I found out because Valera had decided to delete the DNA tests from the records. Every six months I have to check the back up records to see if there was any sort of tampering with evidence."

"I realized that the DNA tests were deleted, so I figured out that something was wrong. I talked to Valera and ordered her to compare Ryan's DNA to unsolved kidnap cases and program the search to send the DNA results to my mailbox. They were a match."

There was a moment of silence.

"Who was she?" Laura asked, looking at Horatio with dark eyes. "Rachel Wolfe, who was she? Why did she take Ryan?"

Horatio sighed and took a gulp of his wine, knowing that a wine like that shouldn't be gulped but not caring.

"I'm not entirely sure. I did some research before I came here. It appears that Rachel Wolfe lost her son and her husband in a mugging gone wrong. Her husband's name was Tom Wolfe and her son's name was Ryan."

"Ryan Wolfe and our Ryan had the same name, the same age, the same looks,… I don't know what she was thinking, perhaps she believed that her son hadn't really died. Or perhaps she was so desperate for her son to be still alive she was willing to kidnap someone else's son and try to make him hers. I don't know for sure."

Horatio wasn't entirely sure how to feel about Rachel Wolfe. On one hand he felt sorry for her, he pitied her, for losing the two people who must have meant the world to her in one day. On the other hand, he hated her, hated her for what she had done to him and his family. He was glad she was dead, it seemed oddly fitting that her death was the catalyst for the truth to come out.

He didn't know for sure if that made him a bad person or not. But truthfully, deep down, he didn't really care.

"How does Ryan feel about her?"

Laura's voice brought Horatio back from his thoughts and he blinked a few times. "What do you mean?"

Laura shrugged, looking down at her lap. "How does he feel about her? Does he love her? Does he still think of her as his mother?"

Horatio blinked a couple of times. "He must have, at some point. I know he did. I don't know if that's still the case."

Laura sighed and set her glass down on the coffee table and swung her legs over the edge of the couch, leaning her elbows on her knees. "It's difficult to release an emotion, an attachment you've had on a person your whole life. I can imagine he might still… love her, even though he knew what she's done. She was his mother, his whole life."

Horatio mimicked her position and laid one hand on her shoulder. "But she's not his mother, you are. You always have been even if he doesn't know it. Laura, we've found him at last, that's the most important thing."

"At least we know that he's alive, that he's done well for himself. He's a good man Laura. He's honest, brave, competent, he has integrity. Yes, he's all grown up now and we weren't there to see it and we can't get that back, but… we can have him now."

She looked up and smiled at him. "You're right, at least we know that he's alright, that he's still alive."

Horatio smiled. He could understand Laura's concern. She was afraid that, as Ryan had grown up with a mother his whole life, Laura would never be able to be a mother to him. She was afraid that he'd never be able to love her as much as he'd loved Rachel. She was afraid that Ryan would never be able to think of her as his mother.

Horatio didn't have that kind of fear. The man that had been Ryan Wolfe's father was dead. Rachel hadn't remarried and the only male family member Ryan had ever mentioned was Ron Sanderson, Rachel's brother, who'd lived in Miami for practically all of Ryan's life. The only thing Horatio was really afraid of was that Ryan might resent Horatio for being his father.

He was afraid that the distance he'd created between him and Ryan would come back to bite him in the ass now that he wanted to get close to Ryan. What Horatio really feared was that Ryan would only be able to respect him, but never love him or care for him the way he did for Ryan.

"So where is he now?" Laura asked him.

Horatio leaned back and sighed. "He's still in Boston. He'll be staying there for two more weeks at least. He said he'd call me if he needed more time."

"Do you think he'll call you?"

Horatio sighed. "I don't know. Two weeks ago I would have told you that he probably wouldn't. Ryan is the kind of person who pushes on no matter what happens. He would have come back after four weeks and he would have moved on with his life, easy or not. But now… with what's happened. I don't think anyone can just go on with his life with something like this."

Laura turned to look at him. "Should we call him?"

"I don't know, Laura. I can't… I know about as much as you do. I have no idea what our next move should be or what his next move will be. I'm just … winging it."

She laughed. "Winging it? That's not usually your style. Horatio Caine always has a plan."

"Well I don't have a plan for this. I never thought that I'd find him, that I'd see him again. I always thought that he…. That he was dead, that he was gone. I never thought about what I would do if I saw him again. Did you?"

She shook her head. "No, I just tried… I just tried to believe that he was somewhere, that he was happy. I tried to make myself believe that he wasn't dead. I couldn't envision anything more then that. I couldn't think of anything more then that."

Horatio nodded and looked out the window. He took a deep breath and felt a smile spreading over his face. No matter what fears might be plaguing him, his son was alive and well and that was more then Horatio had thought to hope for all these years. To have seen Ryan, to have known Ryan, it was enough to give him this elated feeling that wouldn't go away.

He was happy. For the first time in twenty-three years he could be really, utterly happy. It was an unfamiliar feeling to him after all these years, but he decided to just go with it for now. He would worry later, he would be hesitant later. Right now, he just wanted to bask in the feelings that coursed through his system.

Horatio closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "I can't wait for you to see him, Laura. You'll love him. He's the kind of man people can look up to." He opened his eyes again and stood, walking towards the breakfast bar. "I almost forgot, I can't believe it." He picked up his suit jacket and reached in one of its inner pockets.

He quickly made his way back towards the couch and handed the folded piece of paper over to Laura. It was a print out of the first page of Ryan's file. A picture of Ryan in uniform was printed in the right hand corner. "That's him."

Laura took the picture and simply looked at it for a while, a smile on her face. "He's handsome."

Horatio nodded and sat down again. "Yes, his hair's shorter now, but he hasn't changed much since that was taken. He looked just like that when I first met him. He was a patrol officer at one of my crime scenes. I remember being impressed at how thorough he was at questioning the witnesses. Later that day he had a job interview with me because he wanted to be a CSI."

"He was up for promotion from patrol, but he wasn't interested in furthering his career. He just wanted to be a CSI. Right at that moment I needed someone to be an impartial investigator in a case that was connected to someone on my team. He solved the case quickly and efficiently. I was impressed… again."

Laura chuckled softly, the fingers of one hand softly caressing the still face of Ryan ...Caine….

To Be Continued…


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Ryan sighed and put away the cleaning materials he'd used to scrub the wooden floors of the hallway. The entire house was spick and span and all the personal items had been cleared out. Many of the clothes had been given to charity along with all of the toys of Ryan's childhood that weren't broken. He'd practically given everything away, unable to think of anything else to do with it.

The furniture stood alone in the house, like silent guardians of a life that should never have been Ryan's. He took a deep breath and shook his head to clear his thoughts. He was going to sell the house, the decision had been finalized about three days ago when he'd finally made some calls. Some people were going to come and look at it today. Ryan had decided he'd make himself scarce when that happened.

Once the house was sold he'd go back to Miami and he'd never have to come back to Boston ever again. He'd never have to set a single foot in the city he'd hated all his life, the city he'd been trying to escape from as soon as he'd been brought here, as soon as Rachel had taken him away from his real parents.

Outside the snow was falling and Ryan hoped that the house would be bought soon, he wanted to get back to Miami. His leave was almost over now. And when he got back to Miami…. He shivered, what would he do once he was back in Miami? What would he say to Horatio? What would Horatio say?

Flashback

His cell phone rang and Ryan answered it without thought. It was difficult to break years of habit.

"Wolfe."

He winced despite himself. Nobody knew him differently, but he wasn't 'Wolfe" anymore.

"Ryan? It's Valera."

Valera? Why would she be calling him? Was she checking up on him like Alexx did every two days? Did something happen back at the lab? Did she change her mind and decided she wanted to know if Ryan's DNA matched any of the unsolved kidnap cases?

"Hey Valera, what's up?"

"Well, remember how I said that I'd deleted the DNA tests from the records so that no one would find out?"

Something in Ryan's gut tightened and he swallowed, his mouth dry. "Yes?"

"I completely forgot about the back up records. All the tests performed in the lab are recorded and if any one tries to change the records, the back up records register the changes made and who made the changes through the identification code you need to put in to access a computer."

"The only people with access to the back up records are the head of the lab and the higher ups. Horatio called me in his office and… I had to tell him Ryan. I could have lost my job if I didn't. I'm so sorry, but I didn't have a choice and…"

Ryan listened to her babble, but didn't really hear the words. So Horatio knew that Rachel Wolfe wasn't Ryan's real mother and that Ryan had asked Valera to compare his DNA to that of unsolved kidnap cases….

That something in Ryan's gut tightened again.

"Valera, it's alright, okay? I understand that you didn't have a choice. I asked you to do this for me and I asked you to keep it a secret but I didn't expect you to keep quiet about it while it could cost you your job. I completely understand."

"Really? I'm relieved. I didn't want to break your trust and…"

Ryan shook his head even though she couldn't see it. "You didn't break my trust Valera, don't worry. You're a great friend. But… this is very important… what did Horatio say?"

There was a pause on the other side of the phone and Ryan wondered if Valera suspected anything.

"He said he was going to put a formal reprimand in my file and then put me on two weeks probation, without pay. And then… he asked me to run your DNA against unsolved kidnap cases and send the results to his e-mail account. He was acting kinda strange too… there was this look on his face."

Ryan's mouth was parched, he swallowed desperately, but there was no spit to go down. "What kind of look?" his voice was almost a whisper.

"I don't know… he looked… eager and yet… contained at the same time. He looked the way he looks when he's working on a case and he's waiting on the evidence to prove what his gut is telling him."

Ryan nodded, his voice gone.

_Eager…_

"Ryan? Are you there? Ryan?"

Ryan swallowed again, this time wetting the roof of his mouth, and found his voice. "Yes! Yes, I'm still here but I … I've got to go. I'll talk to you later, alright, thanks for calling me."

"Oh, alright… Ryan, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Valera, don't worry about me. Bye."

He didn't even wait for Valera to say her goodbyes and hung up the phone.

End Flashback

It was obvious that Horatio knew, that he'd figured it out and when Valera had done the DNA search for him, Horatio had gotten his proof. Ryan didn't know if he was glad that Horatio already knew and that he was spared the uncomfortable situation of having to tell him or if he was disappointed that he wouldn't be able to see the look on Horatio's face when the older man discovered the truth.

Horatio knew now. He knew that Ryan was his son and he knew that Ryan knew. Ryan wondered if his mother knew now too, if Horatio had told her. It seemed that they still talked to each other and were friendly with each other even though they were divorced. It had looked that way at least from what Ryan could remember from that time he, Eric and Calleigh had been spying on them.

They hadn't called, hadn't tried to contact to him. But to be fair… Ryan hadn't tried to contact them either. Maybe they wanted to give him space because he hadn't said anything before he left for Boston. Maybe they needed space and time themselves. Maybe they were mad at him… or disappointed that Ryan was their son.

He shuddered and refused to let thoughts like that fester inside of him. He didn't know what Horatio thought about him. Horatio had always been polite to him, even if he hadn't been friendly with him like with the others on the team and he'd trusted Ryan. And Ryan knew now that Horatio had a pretty good reason to call him 'Mr. Wolfe'.

He didn't have that reason anymore, so he supposed that Horatio would start calling him Ryan now. Ryan swallowed, he really wouldn't be able to take it if the first time he saw Horatio the older man called him "Mr. Wolfe" even though he knew that Ryan was his son. That would just be… painful.

And he very much doubted that Horatio would call him "Mr. Caine" or something like that. That would just be too weird.

Ryan sighed and racked a hand through his hair. What about his mother? He'd never met her before, he'd never had any interaction with her before. He wasn't even sure what she looked like. In his memories her face was blurry at best and that time in the hallway he'd only seen her from a distance while trying to contain his curiosity and refrain from spying on what might have been a personal moment for his boss.

… his father….

What might have been a personal moment for his father. Only, he hadn't known that back then.

It was still an odd thought that Horatio was his father, but Ryan had learned to slowly accept it. He was just nervous for the confrontation, nervous about what he would say, what Horatio would say. He was nervous because he'd never had a father before and didn't quite know what father and sons talked about. He was nervous because he was unsure of how he would feel once he was confronted with Horatio again.

He wasn't sure how Horatio would feel about it. The man had lost his son years ago, twenty-three years to be exact. His son had been kidnapped. And every cop or CSI knew that the longer it took you to find the victim, the bigger chance is that the victim is dead. Horatio must have thought that his son was… dead.

Ryan took a deep breath. For all these years Horatio must have thought that his son was dead while Ryan was growing up in Boston and going to vacation in Miami. Ryan couldn't imagine what that must have been like for his father, to think that his son was dead. It must have been quite a shock when he found out that Ryan was his.

Did he care? Was he proud? The questions tumbled around inside Ryan's head and he was unsure of the answer. Would his life change? How would his life change? What would people think? What would… Eric think?

Would Eric still want to be with him now that Horatio turned out to be Ryan's father? Or would Eric be too freaked out by the thought of dating Horatio Cain's son. He tried to put himself in Eric's shoes. What if Eric was Horatio's son? Would Ryan still be interested? He didn't know, he just couldn't imagine Eric as Horatio's son. The image was too unbelievable.

He walked around the house, making sure that everything was in order and everything was clean and in its place. He needed to get out of Boston as soon as possible. It was time to go home and face everything in Miami.

To Be Continued…


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The sun was slowly setting in Miami, across the city the fiery orb slowly sank beneath the Miami skyline. The heavens were cast in vibrant red and orange colours streaked with pink as if someone had squirted whipped cream across the canvas of the world. The buildings beneath it were tinged with colours and the smooth glass reflected the light. It was truly beautiful.

Horatio slowly unlocked his front door, his eyes still trained on the sky. He wondered if the sunrises he'd watched nearly all of his life would suddenly be brilliant again, as they had once been. He would have to get up early the following morning to find out.

Behind him Laura was watching the light of the setting sun playing across the walls of the house she'd once called home and the red of Horatio's hair. She still wasn't sure if coming here was such a good idea. The last time she'd been in that house she hadn't been able to stand all the memories and she'd left, pushing back the tears in her eyes.

And now they'd found Ryan again, knew that he was alive, that he was close even if they hadn't talked to him yet. But she was still afraid to go inside, still afraid to be confronted by the memories of all the pain they'd suffered and all the joy that they'd once had together, as a family. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to face the memories of Ryan's childhood, knowing that he'd grown up with another woman to be his mother and other people to be his family.

Horatio turned his head briefly as the door opened and gave her an encouraging smile. She smiled back, a little hesitant, but not allowing herself to turn around and head back to her car. Behind her, Frank and Yelina shared a look, but said nothing.

The four of them stepped into the hallway, arranged in a single file and Laura had to catch her breath when they ended up in the living room. It hadn't changed much over the years, there were some bits of new furniture, but it resembled a great deal of what it used to look like. She dimly heard Horatio saying that he'd get them something to drink while her gaze travelled over the mantelpiece.

The picture of Laura and Horatio at their wedding stopped her in her tracks for a moment and she stopped to study their smiling figures. She'd been wearing a simple white dress, nothing to elaborate with a modest neck line and a rather lengthy skirt. Her hair had been tucked behind her ears and her feet had been killing her by the time that picture was taken.

Horatio had been wearing a simple dark suit, with a white and grey striped tie. His hair had been slightly ruffled, but other then that he'd been immaculate as always. She did remember Ray's tired smile and the circles beneath his eyes while the bridesmaids gossiped about the bachelor party.

The next photograph was of a just born Ryan Caine. He was swaddled in a baby blue blanket, his face quiet as he slept peacefully, sated from his previous feeding. The arms holding him were Horatio's, but you couldn't see it because the camera had taken a close up picture of baby Ryan's face.

She remembered that she'd nearly thrown one of the numerous flowers she'd been given at Ray's head when the flash of the camera had woken Ryan up and he'd started crying. Horatio however, seeing the danger his brother was in had calmed her down by handing Ryan to her and telling her how beautiful she was.

The next picture was one of Ryan at the age Rachel Wolfe had kidnapped him. It was right before they'd left for Miami. Ryan had been standing in his old bedroom in New York, looking at the naked walls, holding Peter in one hand and sucking on the thumb of the other.

When she turned her gaze to the photograph after the one in New York she had to bite her lip. It was one of Ryan and Horatio at the beach, both grinning proudly at the camera, their heads bent over the sandcastle they'd built together. They hadn't known that only three hours after the picture had been taken, Ryan would disappear from their lives.

After that, propped up against the wall there was a square piece of paper, a printed picture of Ryan's face, the one from in his file. It hadn't been framed yet, but it had already gotten a place on the mantelpiece. Laura smiled.

"You mind telling us what this is all about?"

Frank's voice pulled her attention away from the mantelpiece and she turned around. Frank had sat himself down on the sofa while Yelina had chosen to take a seat on the two-seat couch next to it. Judging from the sounds coming from the kitchen, Horatio was still busy gathering glasses.

Laura smiled. "Horatio and I have some good news."

Yelina gave her a look. "You guys finally getting back together?"

Laura could feel a blush rising to her cheeks, turning her face red. Frank eyed her curiously. The sounds from the kitchen were suspiciously missing. Laura cleared her throat. "It's not about that."

Horatio appeared from the kitchen, carrying a tray with a bottle of wine and four glasses. He put it down on the coffee table and poured everyone a glass. Laura took hers with a grateful smile and her eyes wandered from Horatio's blue eyes to the stairs at the corner of the room.

"It's about Ryan." Horatio said, sitting down in the armchair near the mantelpiece. Laura nodded and sat down beside Yelina in the two-seat.

"Ryan?" Frank asked, sharing a look with Yelina.

Horatio smiled, his eyes flickered briefly to Laura's face, and launched into the story that still seemed unbelievable. He explained to them all about the changes in the lab records and the several DNA test results which had caused Horatio's suspicion and prompted him to request a DNA test of his own. He explained to them all he knew about what happened with Rachel Wolfe and Ryan Wolfe and he explained how Ryan had figured everything out for his own as well.

By the time he was finished explaining everything, with some help from Laura who couldn't help herself, the first wine bottle was empty and a second had been opened. It had turned well and truly dark and Horatio was thinking about ordering take-out, knowing that he simply did not have the energy to cook.

Yelina looked completely and utterly stunned. She'd asked a lot of questions during the story, her eyes widening with every answer. Now that it was undeniably true that Ryan Wolfe was Horatio's son, she simply allowed the knowledge to run rampant inside her brain. Frank on the other hand, looked more contemplative then actually shocked. The surprise was there, hidden in the folds and lines of his face, but the thoughtful frown on his forehead spoke volumes.

The silence between the four of them after the story had been finished was heavy, but not oppressive and Laura found herself fidgeting in her seat. She turned her eyes back to the stairs and silently wondered. Horatio caught her looking and shook his head to himself, chuckling.

He rose from his seat and winced when his left knee made a cracking noise. "I'm going to order something to eat. Is that alright with everyone?"

Frank nodded absentmindedly, Yelina made a 'hmm' sound in the back of her throat that warned Horatio she hadn't really heard him and Laura smiled brightly. Horatio nodded and made his way into the kitchen, reaching for the phone. After so many years of knowing each other, he knew what to order for everyone.

He walked back into living room while he was dialling the number and nodded to Laura. "Why don't you go take a look around upstairs. Ryan's room is still… Ryan's room."

Laura smiled again and she made for the stairs. In all the years that he hadn't seen her, that they hadn't been ready to face each other, he'd remembered the anguish on her face, the tears wetting her cheeks and the fragile feel of her hand in his. He'd forgotten what her smile looked like, how happiness seemed to shine from her eyes and how her grip could both mean strength and comfort.

After he placed his order at the take-out place he returned the phone to its cradle and sat down in the armchair again. He turned his attention back to Yelina, who seemed to have recovered from the shock and was now regarding him carefully.

"You are, absolutely, 100 sure of this?"

Horatio nodded.

"This is just too strange for words." Frank said, shaking his head and leaning back in his seat. "I mean, I always figured there was something about Ryan, but I had no idea it'd be something like this."

Horatio nodded again.

"This is unbelievable." Yelina said.

"But it's the truth Yelina. Ryan Wolfe is actually Ryan Caine, my son."

She nodded. "We're going to have to talk to Ray now, explain to him that he has a cousin he never knew about."

Horatio chuckled. "I don't think he'll be too happy about being kept in the dark for so long."

Yelina smiled. "I'll talk to him."

She got up from her seat and moved across the room to where Horatio was sitting. Horatio stood and they hugged each other closely. Yelina wrapped her arms around his shoulders and Horatio wrapped his arms around her waist. She let out a sniffle. 

"I'm so happy for you Horatio. I can't imagine how difficult these years must have been for you and now… I'm just, I'm really happy for you."

"Thank you." He whispered.

She pulled away then, and whipped a few tears away from her face, revealing a blinding smile. "You must be so proud of him."

Horatio grinned. "I sure am."

Frank sighed and clapped Horatio on the back. The red-haired man hadn't even realized the big Texan had moved from the couch.

"Ryan is definitely the kind of boy to be proud of, Horatio. I just have one question, do you have any idea what you're going to do next?"

Horatio's laughter could be heard from the hallway of the second floor, where Laura was standing in front of a closed door. She briefly smiled at the sound of his laughter and reached out with one hand to touch her palm to the white painted wood. Ryan's bedroom lay behind this door, and with a deep breath, she pushed it open.

The room was dark, with only the light of a nearby streetlamp lifting the shadows. She could dimly see shadows and shapes in the dark, but only vaguely. She stretched out with her hand to the right side of the door and felt along the wall until she found the lightswitch. She flicked it and artificial light flooded the room.

The walls had been painted blue twenty-three years ago and on the ceiling there were small patches of white, clouds painted on the sky. Ryan's small single bed stood in the far corner, underneath the window so he could look outside from his bed. There was a toy chest standing at the foot of it.

There was a white wooden closet standing against the other wall, on the left side of the door and there were unopened boxes littering the floor. They had never finished unpacking and after Ryan had been kidnapped, Laura hadn't been able to be confronted by all of Ryan's toys and clothes. It seemed that Horatio had never had the courage to open them either.

Laura walked further inside, glancing over the small amount of toys that had been unpacked before that fatal day at the beach. She frowned slightly when she noticed that there wasn't a speck of dust on them anywhere and realized that Horatio either kept this room clean or he'd cleaned it recently, wanting to surround himself in memories of Ryan. The room didn't smell dusty, but the window above Ryan's bed stood open, bringing in fresh air with each small breeze.

She smiled to herself, maybe when they talked to Ryan as he was now, they could clean up this room together. Ryan might want to see some stuff from the small part of his childhood he'd spent with his real parents, maybe, hopefully. She briefly wondered where Peter was, because the last time she'd seen that bear he'd been lying on the bed. Maybe Horatio kept it somewhere else.

She smiled to herself, when Ryan got back from Boston, maybe she could finally have her son back.

To Be Continued…


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

With a heavy sigh Eric Delko leaned his head back and rubbed the side of his neck tiredly. He ached everywhere. He hadn't slept in nearly 36 hours, pulling a double shift to finish processing a high profile case. He was looking forward to getting home, taking a shower and getting some sleep. Of course after his shift ran out he'd have to stop by Ryan's apartment first, Alexx had asked him to check on Ryan's plants and make sure they had enough water.

She'd do it herself, but she had a family thing or something. Eric hadn't really been listening, he'd been conked out on the couch in the break room, waiting for his caffeine rush to kick in. So he'd just nodded and told her he'd do it and she'd given him that smile, the same one she'd been giving him ever since Ryan left for Boston.

If he was completely honest, Ryan leaving for Boston had left him with a queasy feeling in his stomach. He knew that something had been going on with Ryan before he left, something more then his mother dying. But Ryan had chosen not to tell Eric and Eric had respected that, until Ryan was actually gone.

He'd started getting worried, worried for Ryan and what he might be doing in Boston. He was worried for what Ryan had found out, or been trying to figure out right before he left. He was worried for Ryan's state of mind. He was worried that Ryan might not be grieving enough. He was worried that… that Ryan might change his mind when he came from Boston.

They hadn't said anything definite to each other about what they would do when Ryan got back from Boston. The only thing Eric had made clear was that Eric would be waiting, no matter what Ryan decided. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, make sure that Ryan knew he was wanted, that Eric wanted something with Ryan, even a relationship.

But now Eric wasn't so sure anymore because the worry and the doubt had been gnawing at his gut ever since Ryan had left the crime lab behind him and left for Boston. And no matter how many times Alexx gave him that smile, the worry wouldn't disappear.

Of course, the fact that he hadn't had any sort of contact with Ryan didn't help either. He heard things from Calleigh and Alexx who checked up on Ryan, but that was it. Eric had promised Ryan he'd give him space and time, so he hadn't called. He hadn't expected Ryan to call him either. But it still left him disappointed every time he picked up the phone and it wasn't Ryan, every time he got a message and it wasn't from Ryan.

He'd tried to send Ryan an e-mail. After all, an e-mail was intrusive and you could decide when you read it, if your read it, and when you responded, if you responded. So Eric had sat down in front of his computer, had opened his mailbox, requested to send a new mail, typed in Ryan's e-mailaddress and…nothing. He hadn't known what to write, how to say what he wanted to say. He hadn't known what to write.

The problem was that he'd never realized how much of Ryan's body language Eric counted on to communicate with Ryan. He'd always thought that Ryan was closed off, that he had the perfect poker face. It was now that Ryan was gone that Eric realized how wrong he'd been. You could see what Ryan was feeling through his eyes, through the way he held himself. And now that Eric couldn't see any of that, he was unsure of how to reach out for Ryan.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. God, he was so tired. But he wanted to finish this up. He resolutely shook the thoughts of Ryan from his head and focused once more on the case. He bent over the microscope again, patiently waiting for the slides to stop dancing in front of his eyes. His back was starting to ache from being in that position for so long. He debated getting a chair, but then decided the effort wasn't worth it. Clearly, he had lost all capacity for logical thinking.

"Eric?"

Horatio's voice startled him and he jumped slightly. He looked up from the microscope and had to blink a few times for his vision to settle. The red-head had a slight smile on his face and was leaning against the doorjamb. He looked relaxed and his suit was slightly wrinkled. It wasn't like the tense, always on his guard, immaculate Horatio Eric knew.

But then again, Horatio had been looking different for quite a while now. He seemed more relaxed somehow. He hadn't lost any of his intensity or any of his drive. He just seemed more relaxed. The rigidness in his posture had seeped away and there was a bounce in his step that definitely hadn't been there before.

Calleigh had been speculating wildly to Eric for days now. She told him the wildest rumours that ran around in the lab. It wasn't every day that there was something to be said over Horatio, so the rumour mill was definitely working over time. Some people claimed that Horatio was on anti-depressants and 'happy-pills'. Some people said that he must have finally snapped and that he was planning on retirement, or changing carriers and that's why he looked so relaxed. Calleigh had heard that someone had contributed the new Horatio to Ryan leaving and that Horatio might decide to fire him. After all, Ryan was just a replacement for Speedle.

Calleigh had refused to believe the last one of course. She'd tracked down the person who'd started that particular rumour and had laid into him good. Eric would know, he'd helped her find him and then watched as she tore him a new one. The guy had started crying about half-way through and had requested a transfer to nightshift the following day.

Of course, the beautiful southern blonde had some theories of her own. She told Eric that the receptionist down stairs had seen Horatio meeting with Laura Haigh on several occasions. Calleigh excitedly told him that Horatio must be dating her and that was the reason he was so happy. Calleigh said it certainly looked like Laura made Horatio happy and she was already planning on how to 'accidentally' run into the brunette.

Eric usually didn't really listen to the gossip in the lab, even if you couldn't always escape it, but this time he couldn't help himself. It was too much of a mystery as to why Horatio had changed, not drastically, but noticeably and he wondered why. He'd even asked Alexx if she knew anything. Oddly enough, the beautiful coroner didn't know anything either, and she knew practically everything about everybody.

It seemed that no one had the courage to ask Horatio directly, or mention anything about the change. Calleigh had made some subtle comments, but Horatio knew better then to take the bait. Eric thought that Frank might know something, but the big Texan would never tell anyway.

"Yeah, H?"

The older man used his shoulder to push himself away from the doorjamb and walked towards where Eric was standing. "You look exhausted. You should go home and take some rest."

Eric shook his head. "No H, I'm fine really. I'm just going to finish this. I need to find the right comparisons and it's a lot of manual work."

Horatio nodded, his eyes trailing over the discarded slides and the ones that stood in line to still be compared. "Eric, you could still be here for hours. You're too tired to keep going, you need your rest. In the state you're in now you could easily miss something. Go home for today, get some rest and come back tomorrow."

Eric was about to open his mouth to retaliate but Horatio raised his hand, cutting Eric of before he'd even begun.

"I'll make that an order if I have to. Pack it up and go home, Eric."

Eric glared at Horatio half-heartedly, knowing that the older man was probably right and that he should go home. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face and nodded. "You're right. I'll just pack everything and make some notes about where I was so I'll know where to start off tomorrow."

Horatio smiled. "I'll help."

They worked silently for about half an hour before the lab was cleared up and the next person who needed it would be able to set up his own work efficiently. Eric stared at it with bleary eyes. From the open widows he could see the sun rising. He groaned to himself. Horatio chuckled.

"Come on Eric."

They walked towards the parking lot together, side by side. There was an easy silence between them that Eric could appreciate. They'd known each other and worked together for so long now that they didn't need to use pointless conversation to fill in the silence. But there was something Eric really needed to know. He cleared his throat.

"So how long until Ryan comes back?" Eric asked.

He wasn't entirely sure how long Ryan had gotten time off. He thought Ryan had said something about four weeks, but for all Eric knew Ryan could have called Horatio to request more time off. The thought made Eric's stomach twist violently.

"Well, he should be back at work sometime next week. But I don't know when he's coming back to Miami."

Horatio's voice was quiet and something about it made Eric turn his head to watch him. Horatio was looking forward and his posture was still relaxed, but there was something tight around his eyes now that hadn't been there before. Eric frowned to himself. Why did Horatio seem upset by the thought of Ryan coming home?

"Are you alright, H?"

Horatio glanced at him from the corners of his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Eric shrugged, looking forward again, suddenly a bit uncomfortable. "You've just been different lately and when I mentioned Ryan…" He trailed off, unsure of how to finish it.

Horatio chuckled. "I suppose I have been different… But everything's fine, Eric, don't worry."

Eric nodded, although he couldn't shake his curiosity entirely, "Alright."

They said their goodbye's and parted ways. Eric got into his car and watched as Horatio drove off in his hummer. The Russian Cuban leaned his head against the steering wheel for a minute before starting the ignition and driving off. He planned to start by Ryan's home first, if he didn't do it now, he'd have to do it either before or after his shift tomorrow and he'd probably forget.

It didn't take him too long to find Ryan's apartment, he'd gotten quite used to driving to Ryan's place. Ryan had given Alexx a key to his apartment so she could water his plants. After he'd agreed to water Ryan plants for her, Alexx had shoved the key in Eric's hands and told him not to lose it.

It always surprised Eric how clean Ryan's place was, although he knew about Ryan's OCD and that it kept him from becoming a slob. He just couldn't help it, his own place was a mess often and he only cleaned it up when he knew he had company coming over. Ryan's place was just clean, all the time, no exceptions. It was true that Alexx was keeping it clean now, but when Ryan was still in Miami the house was just as clean… maybe even cleaner.

He stepped inside and took his shoes of by the door. He padded into the living room in his socks and checked the soil of the plants. After finding it a bit dry he went into the kitchen and filled the little green watering can standing on Ryan's counter. He dutifully gave the plants their water and checked Ryan's mail, sorting it in the neat pile that Alexx had arranged on Ryan's coffee table.

God, he was so tired. He rubbed a hand across his face and allowed himself to collapse on Ryan's couch. He'd just stay there for a couple of minutes, get his breath and then he'd leave and drive home.

He was just so tired.

To Be Continued…


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

By the time Ryan got back to Miami he only had about a week before he had to go back to work. He was tired and cranky from the long flight coming back down to Miami and the last thing he'd been expecting to see when he walked into his condo, dragging his bags behind him, was Eric Delko sleeping on his couch.

He'd dropped his travelling bags on the floor in the hallway near the stairs and he'd closed the door behind him. He'd frowned slightly at a pair of shoes beside the welcome mat, but he hadn't really thought anything of it, his brain too tired to process the information and come out with a logical conclusion.

He'd gone into his living room and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Eric sleeping on his couch. The Cuban must have been watering his plants because Ryan could see the little green watering can standing on his coffee table. It was odd, because he'd definitely asked Alexx to water his plants for him, but maybe she'd been busy with something.

He studied the sleeping figure for a while and wondered what he should do. Should he just let Eric sleep? Should he wake Eric up? Ryan cocked his head slightly, if Eric stayed in that position for too long, he would wake up with a very painful kink in his neck. So, Ryan should wake Eric up, just out of decent courtesy.

But still Ryan hesitated. He hadn't talked to Eric after he left for Boston and he was unsure what to say to him, how to act. He bit his lip, knowing that the only logical action he could take in this situation was to wake Eric up and talk to him. They still needed to talk about a lot of things. They needed to… communicate with each other, something they'd been steadily getting better at.

"Ryan?"

Ryan jumped and his gaze focused on the confused, sleepy Russian Cuban lying on his sofa, propped up on one hand.

"What are you doing here?" Eric's voice sounded scratchy and he cleared it noisily.

Ryan blinked. "I live here."

Eric looked around. "Oh, right…" He turned back to look at Ryan and seemed to snap awake in an instant. He nearly leapt of Ryan's couch and smiled broadly. "Ryan, you're back." He seemed torn between wanting to come closer to Ryan and staying away, giving Ryan the space he'd asked for.

Ryan put a step forward, smiling as he heard the relief in Eric's voice. "I am back, I'm home." It surprised Ryan how much it comforted him to be able to say that. "I'm sorry I didn't call you or anything…"

Eric shook his head, putting a small step forward himself. "No, that's alright, it's okay. I'm just… glad you're back. How are you feeling?"

Ryan stopped at the question for a moment. He felt confused and strangely elated at finding Eric Delko sleeping on his couch. He was uncertain about telling Ron that they weren't really related. He was worried about telling the people who were closest to him about who his father really was. But most of all, he was nervous and exited about talking to Horatio again and meeting his mother, his real mother, Laura Haigh.

But how could he tell Eric any of that when the older man obviously thought that Ryan had gone to Boston to bury his mother? For all that Eric knew Ryan was grieving the loss of the woman who'd given birth to him. How could he tell Eric the truth, that the only thing he felt at Rachel Wolfe's death was an odd sort of satisfaction?

Ryan sighed. "I'm tired."

And that pretty much summed everything up.

Eric laughed and suddenly he was hugging Ryan and Ryan wondered how the hell Eric knew that he'd been needing that for so long now. He buried his head in Eric's shoulder and released a happy sigh, for now everything that he needed to think about and talk about could fade to the background. Right now, he just wanted to have some peace.

Eric's hands were softly carding through his hair and Ryan realised another happy little sigh. Eric chuckled and pressed his lips against Ryan's temple. "You look like you're asleep on your feet. You need to get some rest, baby."

Something inside Ryan fluttered at the sound of Eric calling him 'baby'. But he shook his head against Eric's shoulder. "I don't want to go to sleep yet, I just want to stay here like this. I've been away for three weeks, I just need you to…" He didn't finish his sentence, but it was clear that he didn't need to.

Eric's embrace tightened slightly and then relaxed again, letting Ryan know that Eric had gotten the message. Ryan smiled slightly, they were communicating again. They stood there a moment longer, until Eric pulled away slightly, just far enough so he could look Ryan in the eyes.

Ryan's heart started beating faster in his chest at the look in Eric's eyes and he found himself unconsciously wetting his lips. Eric slowly followed his example and Ryan found himself unable to look away from that tempting mouth. He was dimly aware that his breathing was already picking up speed and that Eric seemed similarly affected, but a bomb could have gone off outside and Ryan wouldn't have noticed.

And then, Eric's lips were on his. It was soft and gentle, there was no pressure at all, only the warmth of connecting with another human being. The kiss was almost chaste and Eric pulled away slowly. Ryan leaned forward to re-establish the contact and Eric let him, another gentle press of lips on lips.

Ryan released a small sound of contact in the back of his throat and tightened the arms still wrapped around Eric's torso. Slowly, Eric's hands cupped his face and angled his head slightly backwards. The pressure of Eric's mouth against his increased and willingly Ryan parted his lips to deepen the kiss.

It was lazy and slow and wet and Ryan released a moan inside Eric's mouth without realizing it. Eric tried to deepen the kiss even as his tongue mapped the landscape of Ryan's mouth. He nibbled slightly on Ryan's lower lip and the younger man whimpered. The sound almost Eric groan in response. Eric loved kissing, and it was clear that he already loved kissing Ryan.

Ryan could feel his bones slowly liquefying under Eric's gentle ministrations. His knees were turning into jelly and if he didn't pull away from Eric soon they were going to fold underneath him. Eric was warm and comforting and Ryan held onto him, no matter that he was about to collapse soon, because holding on to Eric seemed to be the only thing keeping Ryan upright.

They parted and Ryan yawned so wide that his jaws seemed to crack. Eric chuckled and gave a slight grin. "Should I be insulted?"

Ryan blushed and shook his head. "No, I'm just…"

"Tired, I know." Eric said softly, his eyes gentle and warming Ryan from his core. He softly kissed the tip of Ryan's nose. "You should get some sleep."

Ryan rested his cheek against Eric's shoulder. "I don't want to be alone."

Eric softly stroked Ryan's hair. "I'll come with you, if you need me to."

They left Ryan's bags in the hallway and made their way up the stairs into Ryan's bedroom. Alexx must have kept his house clean besides watering the plants because there wasn't a speck of dust anywhere. The only problem was that the bed didn't have any sheets. After Ryan explained exactly where everything was, Eric made the bed for him.

Ryan ignored all the little ways that were different from the way he usually did it, ignored the sting of his OCD. He was just too tired to care right now, too tired to actively take part in putting new sheets on the bed and make sure that everything was done properly. Even the thought that it really was a statement of how tired he really was didn't annoy him.

Ryan took of his button-up shirt and his t-shirt. He nearly stumbled over jeans but Eric kept him from falling. He crawled underneath the bed in his boxers and watched as Eric undressed himself. The odd feeling of déjà vu overwhelmed him for a brief moment, thinking back to the last time he'd been laying in bed, watching Eric undress.

It was the night when he'd thought his mother had died. He'd been feeling guilty and he'd still been in shock, but he hadn't been able to help himself admire the smooth skin stretched across Eric's shoulder blades and the strong back. They'd said important things to each other that night, veiled promises and admissions that had been important and necessary.

Finally, Eric slid beneath the sheets and wrapped himself around Ryan's body like a great octopus. Ryan didn't mind and happily snuggled closer into the embrace, pressing himself against Eric's warm skin.

Eric let out a surprised his. "Your feet are like ice."

Ryan grinned as he pressed his feet against Eric's warm calves. He 'hmm'-ed in agreement. He could almost feel Eric rolling his eyes or suppressing an exasperated sigh. There was a few moments silence and Ryan could feel himself slowly slipping away into sleep.

"Is everything alright now?"

The question caught Ryan off guard and he struggled slightly to bring himself back to full consciousness.

"What?"

Eric shrugged and Ryan could feel the movement all the way down to his toes.

"Before you left for Boston, there was something troubling you. You acted as if you were working on a secret case no one could know about. You said you'd tell me later, when you'd figured everything out. I'm not asking you to tell me now, I just want to know, is everything alright now?"

Ryan was clear awake now and had to fight the urge to groan. Why couldn't he have just gone to sleep? Why couldn't Eric have just let it go until the following day? Ryan just wanted to get some sleep. He sighed and kissed the smooth, caramel skin beneath his mouth.

"Ryan?"

Eric's voice sounded concerned now and Ryan wondered what he was thinking.

"Eric, it's sort of alright now. I …"

Suddenly, he could feel tears clogging his throat and he swallowed, desperately not wanting to cry. But his body refused to listen to him and slowly the tears started seeping out from his eyes, rolling over his cheeks and wetting the pillow beneath his head, namely Eric.

The Russian Cuban grasped Ryan's jaw and gently tilted his head up so that their eyes met. Ryan could read the worry and the concern in the gentle lines of Eric's face.

"Ryan, why are you crying?"

Ryan swallowed again, unable to deflect the question and unable to outwardly lie to Eric. He could tell Eric to please let it go and Eric probably would. But then…how would Ryan….

"My mom… she's not…. She's not really my mom. She kidnapped me when I was a kid."

"She kidnapped you?" Eric's eyes widened and there was an expression of utter shock on his face. "Are you sure that she didn't adopt you or something."

Ryan bit his lip, the only way to explain was to explain…everything, including the fact that Horatio was his father. And how would Eric react to that piece of information? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I know she didn't adopt me," his breathing hitched and he quickly reached up to brush away his tears. "I know she didn't adopt me because I ran my DNA through the system and it matched the DNA of an old kidnap case."

There was a stunned silence and Ryan opened his eyes again. Eric was looking at him with concerned eyes.

"Then… who are your parents, Ryan?"

To Be Continued…


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

The Miami air was heavy with the warmth that Ryan had savoured ever since he'd been a small boy. He didn't know if the salt on his tongue was real, or a residue from his memories. He blinked several times, his eyes stinging and he scrubbed at his face. His skin felt clammy and cold to the touch and Ryan wanted to take a shower, but knew that it wouldn't really help.

It was light outside, but it was fading fast. Ryan hadn't been able to catch any sort of sleep yet, he hadn't had a chance too even though his body urged for him to sleep. He'd been to busy explaining Eric everything.

"_My DNA wasn't a match to my mother's DNA, or her brother's. I'm not related to them. I did some more investigating to make sure and found out that Rachel Wolfe once had a son named Ryan Wolfe. But Ryan Wolfe died when he was young at the same time as her husband died. I asked Valera to run my DNA through the system." _

It had taken him quite some time to explain everything to Eric, who'd been full of questions on what exactly he'd investigated. Eric had been surprised at the fact that Ryan had basically treated it like another case, blocking away his emotions and being methodical and logical in his approach to finding out what had happened all those years ago.

"_I checked the system. Horatio had a son named Ryan Raymond Caine. He'd been kidnapped twenty-three years ago, at the same time that Ryan Wolfe and Tom Wolfe died. My DNA matches his and a woman called Laura Haigh. Remember her?"_

Eric had been stunned of course, he'd been absolutely stunned and shocked and surprised and blown away.

"_That's why I stayed in Boston for such a long time. If it had just been Rachel's funeral I would have come back sooner, but… I needed time to figure everything out." _

Ryan was hopeful, thus far Eric hadn't said or done anything to make Ryan think that he might change his mind about them having relationship because Horatio turned out to be Ryan's father all of a sudden. And Ryan was still surprised how relieved he was. The only thing that worried him was that Eric might not be unable to realize it. All through Ryan's explanation Eric had asked several different questions, but there was one question that continued to surface.

"Horatio is your father?"

And every time Ryan had answered "Yes" and Eric had been quiet for a while.

The Russian Cuban was sitting across from him, sipping a cup of coffee and looking mildly pensive, as if he'd finally gotten all the pieces of a puzzle sorted and was now fitting it together. Ryan was staring at the cordless phone lying on its back on the kitchen table, his fingers itching to pick it up, Horatio's phone number ghosting through his mind.

He knew it was up to him to make the first contact, Horatio didn't know when Ryan would be back. And if he didn't contact Horatio, the first time they'd see each other again would be at work and Ryan didn't want that. That would just be too weird and uncomfortable and just plain wrong. He needed to talk to Horatio before the pressure of seeing each other at work every day cut into their… father/son relationship?

"Horatio knows that you're his son, doesn't he?" Eric suddenly asked.

The question caught Ryan off guard. He hadn't had a chance to explain about the back up records of the lab and Horatio discovering it. So why would Eric think that Horatio already knew? How would Eric come to that conclusion? He frowned slightly and didn't answer, instead he asked a question of his own.

"Why do you ask?"

Eric shrugged and leaned back in his chair, that pensive look still plastered across his face. "For the last two weeks, he's seemed… happier. That tense set of his shoulder is gone and he seems more relaxed. It's not that his guard his down, it's just… more at ease with the world maybe."

Something in Ryan's chest that felt like a coiled spring loosened. "Really?"

Eric nodded. "Everyone's noticed. There are some pretty wild theories; the rumour mill is working over time. But no one really knows what's going on, not even Alexx or Calleigh. I asked him about it this morning, before I came over to water your plants, he said that… everything was fine, but that was it."

Ryan nodded in understanding and mulled over the words in the privacy of his own head. "He does know. He checked the back up records of the lab and found all the DNA tests Valera did and then tried to delete from the system."

Eric made a noise of surprise. "That's why she's on probation."

"Yeah, she didn't lie to Horatio about what she did. I think that's why the consequences weren't so severe. Anyway, Horatio figured out that I was… his… I think, I'm not sure. But from what Valera described, he definitely had a feeling that I was his. He had her run the test again and well… he's got the DNA results now."

"I don't know who he's told yet. I think he might have told Laura Haigh, because she's my… my mother and everything, but I'm not sure." Ryan's eyes flittered to the telephone lying on it's back. "I haven't seen him or talked to him since I left for Boston. I haven't called and he hasn't called either, I think he wants me to take the first step."

Eric was watching Ryan with soft eyes. "Are you going to call him?"

Ryan's fingers were itching again. He shrugged. "I don't know yet."

Eric was studying him now, looking at him with a warm expression on his face. "I think you should call him."

Ryan blinked. "Now?"

Eric nodded, slowly. "I think you should, right now. He's… I can't possibly describe the change in him to you, Ryan. You need to see it to understand how profoundly the knowledge that you're his son has changed Horatio. It's like there's a weight of his shoulders that no one had even noticed was there. I think that knowing you're his son has given him something we couldn't possibly understand."

Ryan swallowed and looked back down at the phone. He wanted to call Horatio, wanted to reach out to the man who was his father, but he was afraid. Despite Eric's description of how Horatio had changed, he was still afraid. He was afraid of rejection, of being turned away by a man who he wanted desperately to… to… to love him.

Tears stung Ryan's eyes and he quickly blinked them away. He ran a hand through his hair, it was getting slightly shaggy again. If Horatio turned him away, he wouldn't be able to take it. If Horatio was disappointed in him, if Horatio didn't care, Ryan would… he would… he wouldn't be able to take it.

His mother... Rachel… had wanted Ryan to be someone he wasn't. She'd wanted him to be her son and all the little things that might remind her that he wasn't hers had been smothered and hidden away. He hadn't really been hers, he hadn't really been her son.

If he'd been adopted he would have been able to live with it, if he'd been adopted he would have been able to still love her, to still see her as his mother. If he'd been adopted she would have been his mother, no matter what. But she'd stolen him, taken him away from a family that had… loved him?

"Ryan?"

Eric's voice was soft and he'd reached from across the kitchen table to grasp Ryan's hand in his own. His eyes were warm and gentle and tender and Ryan shivered. Eric smiled.

"Call him."

Ryan nodded and picked up the phone. He had Horatio's cellphone number memorized. He dialled it easily and held the cordless phone up to his ear. He could hear it ringing and the urge to hang up was crawling up his vertebra. His grip on the phone tightened until the knuckles were white. He bit his lip.

"Caine speaking."

Ryan inhaled sharply. Eric gave his hand an encouraging squeeze.

"Da… Horatio?" 

Ryan could hear his voice slightly cracking. As if he was still a teenager waiting for his voice to change.

"Ryan?"

There was something different in Horatio's voice compared to the last time Ryan had heard it, though he couldn't pinpoint what exactly.

"Yes, it's me."

Ryan knew it probably sounded really stupid, but he didn't know what else to say. What did you say to a man who'd been your father all your life while you'd never known it? What did you say to a man who is almost a stranger to you even if he is your father? His mind remained blank even as he desperately sought for something to say. He needed to say something, anything, to reach out to Horatio and have some form of contact in any way possible.

"Ryan, I…. How are you?"

The question caught Ryan off guard. It didn't seem like something Horatio would say when confronted with his long lost son. But then again, maybe Horatio didn't know what to say either. This wasn't the kind of situation people could prepare themselves for. He bit his lip again, what to say?

"I… I'm not doing so well," Ryan admitted, "I … it's not easy to deal with this. I don't know what to think. I need to… to talk to you, but I don't know what to say."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a while and Ryan was nearly dying from it. He could feel the anxiety churning in his stomach, something tight curled around his throat. He needed Horatio to say something, anything. Eric squeezed his hand again and Ryan opened his eyes, realizing that he'd closed them at some point.

"Ryan, I want to talk to you too."

Horatio's voice was soft and Ryan released his breath in relief. He became aware of another voice on the other side of the line, a woman's voice. It was muffled. Ryan licked his lips. Eric squeezed his hand again.

"Is that…?"

He couldn't say it.

"Laura, yes…. Do you want to talk to her?"

Silence again and Ryan didn't know what to say. He could feel the desire to talk to her warring within himself, but something was holding him back. It was… he couldn't, shouldn't do this over the phone. He needed to go over there and… talk to them face to face. He was just so tired.

"I don't know."

It was as honest an answer as Ryan could give him. There were some muffled sounds on the other side of the phone, probably Laura and Horatio talking to each other. Ryan wondered what they were saying, but wasn't sure if he really wanted to know. His eyes sought out Eric's and the older man smiled. Ryan wasn't surprised at how much a comfort that was.

"That's alright, Ryan. She wants you to know that if you want to, she wants to talk to you too. Are you back home, in Miami?"

"Yes, I'm back home."

Eric's eyes urged him on.

"I came home 'round noon. I wasn't sure if I should call you or not." Ryan said.

"I'm glad you called."

There was no pressure in Horatio's voice, only calm and warm acceptance. Ryan relaxed and felt the exhaustion creep up on his muscles again. He shook it off, sitting up straighter. He licked his lips and turned the hand that Eric was holding around, so that he could tangle their fingers together. He squeezed and Eric squeezed back.

"I'm glad I called too."

Eric smiled.

"Horatio, I … I need to see you, talk to you, in person and not just on the phone. I need to see… Laura…. I don't know where, but… not at work."

Again, muffled voices talking. Ryan was breathing heavily.

"Ryan, you can come over to my place, if you want. It's… it's where you used to live with us. If you don't mind we can all meet here…. After you've gotten some rest, you sound tired."

Ryan released a chuckle and smiled tiredly. "I am tired, but … I couldn't sleep and… there were some things I still needed to do. I'll… I'll come to your house, I know where it is. It was in the… file of my… kidnap case. Can I come over tomorrow? I know you probably have to go to work, but…"

Horatio interrupted him. "Tomorrow is fine, it's great even."

"Will m… Laura be there, too?"

"She will if you want her to be."

Ryan nodded. "I want her to be, yes."

Ryan waited for the muffled voices, but there weren't any, just silence. Horatio cleared his throat and Ryan's heart jumped slightly. The nervous, flittering energy was still running through his veins, giving him the strength to deal with this before he could finally, finally get some sleep.

"I'll be there around noon, is that alright?" Ryan asked, his voice cracking again.

Horatio nodded, but Ryan didn't see it. "That's great, Ryan."

"Alright, I'll see you then. Bye." And Ryan quickly hung up.

His nerves were shot and he felt like he could fall asleep any minute now. He put the phone down on the coffee table. Eric smiled at him and Ryan smiled back, he stood up from the kitchen table but didn't let go of Eric's hand. A huge yawn nearly split Ryan's face in two.

"That was definitely the most difficult conversation I've had in my entire life." Ryan said.

Eric smiled. "But also the most satisfying."

Ryan nodded, agreeing wordlessly. "I want to get some sleep."

Eric chuckled and put down his coffee. He stood up from the table. "Alright then, we'll get some sleep."

Ryan smiled. He didn't want to go to sleep alone.

To Be Continued…


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Ryan moaned softly and tried to crawl closer to the warm body beside him. There was a gasp from somewhere, but Ryan didn't pay attention. The body beneath him shifted and Ryan released another moan, this time to convey his displeasure. The body stopped moving and Ryan released a happy sigh. He snuggled closer still, seeking warmth and reassurance.

There was a chuckle and a hand carding through his hair, slowly massaging his scalp. He wasn't fully awake yet and arched into the touch without question. Another warm chuckle, this one so deep that it resonated inside Ryan's chest. There was something familiar about it. Another hand slowly brushed his cheek and prompted Ryan to wake up. He opened his eyes to the smiling face of Eric Delko and blushed fiercely.

"You're like a big cat." Eric murmured, something warm and teasing in his eyes, with a glimpse of something that made Ryan shiver.

"I am not." The denial was only half-hearted and Ryan yawned widely.

Eric grinned at him. "Still tired?"

Ryan gave him a sullen glare. "I see you're wide awake."

Eric smiled a made "hmm"-sound in the back of his throat. He pressed his forehead against Ryan's and softly nuzzled Ryan's nose, an Eskimo kiss. Ryan smiled, his sleepiness slowly falling away, and nuzzled back. His hands wrapped around Eric's shoulders and slowly, he leaned forward to kiss Eric's lips.

Eric smiled against Ryan's mouth and kissed back, slowly, languidly as their lips pressed against each other. It was warm and dry and soft and Ryan slowly opened his mouth in a request. The kiss was soft and gentle and deepened slowly, until Eric was pressing the younger man onto his back, his tongue sweeping across the roof of Ryan's mouth in an urgent claim.

Eric's hands were everywhere, stroking across his naked skin, gliding near the edges of his underwear. Ryan arched into the touch. His hands raked over Eric's back, holding on for dear life as Eric kissed him within an inch of his life. Ryan moaned loudly, if this was how Eric kissed then he couldn't wait to find out how he…

A shrill beeping noise resonated through the room, startling the occupants on the bed. Eric pulled away with a groan and rolled onto his back. Ryan turned his face in the pillow, willed away the urge to slam his fist into the mattress and turned to his alarm clock on the nightstand. He quickly turned it off and checked the time.

"It's time to get up, I have to be at Horatio's in two hours." Ryan said softly, suddenly remembering what he had planned for today. His stomach twisted itself into knots at the thought.

He could feel Eric's hand resting carefully between his shoulder blades. "It'll be alright. It's going to be difficult, without a doubt, but it's going to be alright."

Ryan sighed and got up from the bed. "I'm going to take a shower."

He was half-tempted to ask Eric to come with him, but in the end stood beneath the spray alone. He wasn't entirely comfortable with his relationship with Eric just yet. There were still some things that they needed to talk about, things they hadn't had the chance to talk about just yet. A lot had happened in the last month and there just hadn't been time for them to do any serious talking about what they wanted.

They had only made vague promises to each other and admitted that they wanted something more between them. They'd kissed and they'd slept in the same bed together, snuggled up against each other and if the alarm clock hadn't gone off that morning, who knows how far Ryan would have allowed things to progress? He hadn't exactly been able to think clearly with Eric's tongue down his throat.

After he finished washing, he stepped out of the shower and pulled out a towel out of the closet to dry himself off and wrap around his waist. He grabbed another, smaller towel for his hair and started to rub it semi-dry. After he was finished he hung the towels up to dry and tossed the underwear he'd been sleeping in into the hamper. He went back into the bedroom and collected a clean pair of underwear, slipping it over his head. He smiled at Eric as the older man left, already dressed, heading downstairs, probably to make breakfast or something.

Ryan turned towards his closet and pulled out a pair of dark blue jeans and slipped them on. He decided to wear a sky-blue button-up shirt, shrugging the ends over his shoulders and leaving the top two buttons undone. He briefly fingered a black sweater vest, but decided against it. He chose a dark blue pair of socks and then slid into his sneakers.

He was starting to feel nervous again. He wondered if Horatio would look different to him too, like Eric had said he looked different. He wondered how it would feel to take a step in that house, the house he should have grown up in. He wondered if he would remember more about it, if somehow being inside those walls would trigger more of his lost memories.

He went down the stairs and into the kitchen, finding Eric riffling through his kitchen cabinets. The Russian Cuban shook his head and turned towards the kitchen table where Ryan was already sitting down.

"There is nothing here, except for coffee." Eric complained, turning towards the coffee machine, fiddling with the buttons.

Ryan shrugged. "I haven't been here for a month, what do you expect?"

Eric chuckled slightly. "I suppose so."

Ryan smiled slightly, but it didn't reach his eyes. He drummed his fingers on the kitchen table. He swallowed and looked out the window. He could feel the nervous energy flittering through his system, urging him to move, to do something. A cup of coffee was placed in front of him and a warm hand settled over his own.

"Do you want me to go with you?"

Eric's voice was slightly teasing and Ryan gave him a wan smile, taking a sip of his coffee. He took a deep breath.

"What do I tell him, them… both of them? About us?"

Eric gave him a careful look. "You tell them whatever you want to tell them."

Ryan made a noise of frustration. "Oh that sure is helpful. Horatio doesn't know I'm gay, Laura doesn't go I'm gay. How do I tell them I'm gay? I mean… what if Horatio… what if he…. I mean, I know he's not prejudiced like that, but still… And what about Laura? I don't know a thing about her. I don't know how she's going to react to this. What if they don't even want to get to know me anymore?"

Eric gave him a look. "Ryan, I know you don't know them, but Horatio's a good man and you know he wouldn't have married Laura and had a child with her, had you with her, if she wasn't a good person too. It might be a bit of a shock to them, but you're all still just getting to know each other."

"Besides, you think you have problems? I'm the one Horatio is going to threaten when he realized who his son is having a relationship with? And you've seen Horatio when he's dealing with a suspect, he keeps going until they crack or wet their pants! You're not looking forward to a confrontation with him, but let me tell you, as soon as he finds out about us, I'm not looking forward to going to work at all."

Ryan stared at him for a few minutes, obviously surprised at Eric's burst and then…. He started laughing. It was a laugh that originated from deep within his chest and he held his sides as he shook with his laughter. Eric couldn't help the grin spreading across his face at the sight of Ryan, all the stress of the couple of weeks melted from his face in those precious few minutes.

He finally stopped laughing and shook his head, looking at Eric. "Thank you, I really needed that."

Eric harrumphed and pouted. "I was being serious."

Ryan snickered, threatening to once again fall into a fit of laughter, but managing to restrain himself at the last moment. "I'm glad that you still want there to be an us, even now that you know who my parents are."

Eric's smile was soft and gentle. "Ryan, I fell in love with you, not with your parents."

There was a tense moment of silence. They'd only ever admitted to wanting something. They had never said anything about emotions and falling in love. Ryan could feel his heart thundering in his chest, a warm glow lighting inside of him. He could feel a big smile spreading across his face.

"You're in love with me?"

Eric looked mildly uncomfortable as he fidgeted in his seat. "That's what I said didn't I?"

Ryan ignored the defensive tone and took Eric's hand in his own, softly stroking the back of it with his thumb. He contemplated briefly on how to voice his own admission and smiled. "I have to admit, I was rather worried that Horatio being my father might matter to you. I'm so relieved that you don't care, that it doesn't have any affect on 'us'. And I want there to be an 'us' so badly because I'm in love with you too."

Eric looked slightly relieved. "Good." There was a hint of smugness to his voice, but Ryan decided to let it go. They could work on Eric's ego later.

He stood from his chair. "I should get going. I don't want to be late for this."

Eric nodded and stood as well. "I should be getting home, get some rest, take a shower. Call me?"

Ryan smiled and nodded. "I will."

They left Ryan's house together, each climbing into their own cars and taking off. Ryan drove at a sedate pace, keeping both hands on the wheel. He knew the address Horatio lived at by heart, he had it memorized from the file. He didn't know the neighbourhood very well, but it didn't take him too long to find the right house. He parked in front, noticing a hummer and another car in the driveway.

For a while he simply sat behind the wheel, the engine turned off, watching the house. It didn't look very familiar from the outside and Ryan found himself hoping that it would be familiar on the inside. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, not knowing that his father had the same nervous habit.

-----

"Is he still outside?"

Laura nodded. "He's still sitting in his car, watching the house as if it will swallow him whole if he comes any closer." She was sitting on the couch near the window, watching Ryan unobtrusively as he sat in his car.

"He's nervous." Horatio said, coming to stand beside her. "He sounded nervous on the phone, yesterday."

Laura glanced at him sideways. "So did you."

Horatio released a breathy chuckle, his hands curled into fists in the pockets of his jeans. "I am nervous."

And he looked nervous. He was dressed in a pair of faded, light blue jeans, wearing a dark blue pinstriped button-up shirt. For once the ends weren't tucked into his pants. His hair was in disarray from running his fingers through it and his entire posture screamed discomfort into the world.

Laura smiled. "So am I."

Horatio gave her a look. "You seem quite relaxed."

She laughed softly. "It's all show, let me tell you…. Do you think he'll stay out there for much longer?"

Horatio shrugged. "I'm not sure. I've always known Ryan as someone who deals with a problem in a methodical manner, facing it head on. I've never seen him hesitate."

Laura shrugged. "Well, like you said, he's nervous."

To Be Continued…


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

There was something beautifully painful about the way Ryan and Horatio stood facing each other, Laura decided. They strained towards each other, the air between them reaching forward even as their bodies stayed stubbornly behind. The similarities in their looks seemed tragic somehow. Laura wished they would reach out towards each other, but she knew they wouldn't.

Horatio had an odd expression on his face, something between longing and panic. His hands were slowly clenching and unclenching as they hung by his sides, as if he was itching to reach over and pull Ryan into a crushing hug. Or maybe he was remembering the weight of picking up little Ryan Caine and holding him in his arms. Laura suspected that it was a mixture of both, all wrapped up in grief and happiness.

Ryan, for his part, looked like a deer caught in headlights. He had a shaky smile on his face and his hazel eyes were wide. One of his arms hung by his sides and the other one was slightly curved backwards as the hand attached to it was stuffed in a back pocket. Laura didn't know if his skin was always that pale or if this was an exception. He wasn't very tall, but he wasn't short either. He was a few inches shorter then his father, but not by much. His hair was brown, a few shades lighter then her own.

A small part of her ached at the sight of him. She could see the traces of the little boy he'd once been in his face. He was so handsome and so grown up, she felt a stab of pain that she hadn't been able to see him grow up. There was a gap of space and time between her last memory of him and this moment, standing behind Horatio in the hallway waiting to let him in again. She could see her little boy in this man, but she'd never seen all the years it had taken her son to become one.

"Am I too early? I wasn't sure. I'd said noon, but…" Ryan trailed of, unsure of himself, nervous.

Horatio quickly shook his head and stepped aside to let Ryan in. "Not at all, come in. We've been expecting you."

Ryan gave a hesitant smile and stepped inside, his eyes met hers and he stopped in his tracks. She gave him a smile, wanting to comfort him, reassure him. She clasped her hands together in front her, not sure if he would welcome a hug from her or not. She glanced at Horatio, but he was looking at Ryan and didn't notice her questioning look.

Finally, she decided to compromise and reached out with one hand, resting it comfortably on his shoulder. He wasn't that much taller then her, so it wasn't much of a stretch and her smile widened for Ryan. He smiled back and his hand reached up to softly touch her shoulder, but he quickly pulled back. He seemed shy, the way he used to be when he was little and he had to meet new people. The thought saddened her, to her son, she was a stranger, someone new.

They made it to the living room, somehow and Ryan was painfully aware how uncomfortable and awkward it felt. He wanted to be able to talk to them, his parents, but nerves and uncertainty held him back. Just how much of him did they want?

Horatio disappeared into what Ryan assumed was the kitchen, muttering something about drinks. Ryan had never seen Horatio that out of it, he could see something in Horatio that hadn't been there before and he wondered if that was what Eric had tried to explain to him. Horatio hadn't touched him, and Ryan didn't know if he was disappointed or relieved. Laura had reached out to him and for a brief moment, he'd reached out to her too. He wasn't entirely sure why he pulled away so quickly.

Ryan walked further into the living room, taking a look around, wondering if this was how the living room had looked like in his youth. Laura stood near the sofa and didn't move, simply watching him. Oddly enough, it wasn't unnerving. He could understand it, it was difficult to stop looking at her too. He forced his gaze beyond the room, fixating on a line of pictures on the mantelpiece. He stepped forward and his breath caught in his throat.

The first picture was of Horatio and Laura on their wedding day. They looked improbably young and Ryan wondered if maybe they were this young in one of his forgotten memories. They were smiling and they looked happy together, Ryan found himself wondering how they'd met, how Horatio had asked Laura to marry him. Rachel had told him how she'd met Tom and how he'd proposed to her. She'd told him over and over again until he was sick of hearing it. Ryan wondered if he would ever get sick of those kind of stories if Horatio and Laura told them, if they would be willing to tell him.

The next photograph was … a baby picture. A baby was wrapped in a light blue baby blanket. He reached out and carefully lifted it from the polished mantelpiece surface. He couldn't keep his eyes off it. A shadow stood beside him and he glanced at it, Laura smiled at him. She cleared her throat and tucked a lock of dark brown hair behind her ear. Rachel Wolfe had been blonde.

"That's you, when you were born. Horatio is the one holding you. Raymond took the photograph." Her voice was soft, unobtrusive and Ryan could feel something crawling around inside of him.

"Raymond?" Ryan asked.

Laura nodded. "Horatio's brother."

He put the picture down again and picked up the next one. This time he could recognize himself. Rachel had taken pictures of him at that age and framed them, hanging them on the walls of the hallway of the house in Boston. In the photograph, he was standing in an empty room, looking around. He was sucking his thumb and in his other hand, he was holding a bear. That bear….

"Peter…" Ryan whispered, the memory of that bear suddenly as sharp as a needle in his mind.

Laura gave a small chuckle and when he turned to look at her, her smile could have the power to blind him, even if there was something resembling tears in her eyes.

"Raymond gave it to you when you were little. You carried it with you everywhere, except for that one time… at the beach."

Ryan didn't need her telling him which time she meant and he set the picture down again.

"Who took it?"

"The picture?"

Ryan nodded.

"Horatio did, he was quite the photographer when you were little. There should be a lot more pictures of you. I think they're still in the boxes in the room that should have been yours."

Her voice had taken on a dreamy quality and Ryan didn't answer, focusing his attention on the next picture.

It was of him and Horatio, their heads bent together, framed by the sun behind them. They were both smiling broadly and Ryan had never seen Horatio look so… happy. There was a sandcastle in the front of the picture and Ryan could feel something painful clench inside of him. Not too long after that he'd wandered away from his parents and met a woman named Rachel Wolfe. Whether she mistook him for her dead son or whether she knew full well what she was doing, Ryan would never know.

Laura didn't say anything about that one, no explanation. She knew she didn't have to explain anything about that one. Ryan wondered if she would tell him about it, if he asked, but decided not to try. It was too soon to bring up memories like that and today was not about that.

The next picture was an image that he saw every morning in the mirror. It hadn't been framed, but it seemed to Ryan quite obvious that it would be, one day. Why else would it stand on the mantelpiece? It was the one from in his file, Ryan had never liked it. He'd worn his hair like that because it had fitted with the uniform, but he'd never liked it very much. He ran a hand through his hair in memory.

"I didn't know what you looked like, so Horatio brought it along for me." Laura said softly.

Ryan glanced at her and nodded, he whipped his sweaty hands on his jeans and cleared his throat. "I saw you talking to Horatio once, at the lab, but I didn't know who you were back then."

Laura smiled at him softly. "I suppose it must be strange. I don't remember seeing you anywhere, so it doesn't seem so strange to me. But you and Horatio have worked together for over two years now and … all of a sudden you find out that you're father and son….Frank and Yelina were surprised to say the least."

"Frank and Yelina?" Ryan asked.

Laura nodded, looking unsure for a minute. "Frank is an old friend of ours, he worked on your case, when you were kidnapped. He'd known us before that and Yelina, she's like a sister to Horatio. And they'd both known you when you were a child. We felt that we had to tell them."

Ryan nodded, he could understand. He just hadn't expected them to tell anyone. "Did you tell anyone else?"

Laura shook her head, looking even more unsure now. "No, Yelina mentioned explaining things to Ray Jr., your cousin. But that's all."

Ryan bit his lip. "I told … a friend of mine, Eric Delko, he's on Horatio's team. But I haven't told uncle Ron yet that he isn't my uncle. I… I'm not sure how."

"It's very strange, explaining something like that." Laura said, and some of that insecurity had melted away when he admitted that he'd told a friend.

Ryan nodded and gave her a shy smile. He glanced at the kitchen briefly, the sounds of glasses being set down had died out a while ago and hadn't resumed yet. "It is very strange. But I… I'm glad that … it's Horatio. In a way, I'm glad that someone like Horatio is my father. He's a … good man."

Laura's smile widened briefly. "Yes, he is."

There was a brief moment of silence, only broken by the sounds of glasses being filled with liquid. If Ryan hadn't been so nervous, he might have noticed that it was obvious Horatio had been listening in on their conversation.

Ryan felt vaguely uncomfortable, standing there besides a stranger who was his mother and not saying a word. The silence was too heavy and he resisted the urge to yank at the collar of his shirt, he already had two buttons unbuttoned.

"Boxes in my room?" Ryan asked suddenly, remembering the words Laura had said earlier.

Laura looked confused for a moment, but then nodded. "Yes, we never finished unpacking. And Horatio kept everything the way it was."

Ryan wondered at that and at the pictures on the mantelpiece. Why hadn't Horatio cleaned out all the memories of Ryan in his life from his house?

"Why?"

"Because I couldn't." Horatio's voice said and Ryan turned around. Horatio was holding a small tray with three glasses of iced tea, Ryan could see the condensation on the glasses. "It was too difficult and it was important … for me… that it stayed that way." He continued.

Ryan didn't know if 'that way' meant the boxes not moving or moving them being difficult. It didn't really matter because it still touched something inside of him and it made him want to smile. Ryan wanted to say something, admit something, confess something too.

"I remember Peter." Ryan said. "I'd always remembered Peter, though I always thought he didn't really exist. I didn't question why I remembered him even though he didn't exist. I don't know why."

There was a smile on Horatio's face and Ryan could breathe more easily. The red-haired man set the tray down on the coffee table, next to a box that Ryan hadn't noticed before. Horatio picked up the box and opened it, pulling out a pair of baby-shoes and setting them on the coffee table. Ryan dimly realized that they must have been his. And then, Horatio pulled out a beige bear that Ryan immediately remembered.

"Peter." Ryan said and he accepted the bear when Horatio handed it to him.

The fabric of the bear felt soft in his hand and the large, chequered bowtie around its neck was kinda scratchy. It was still a beautiful bear and Ryan found that he wanted to keep it. He remembered Ron giving him that stupid, white bear, the one Ryan had named Tom and buried at the bottom of his toy chest. He'd hated that bear.

"Do you think it's strange that I want to keep him?"

The question escaped his mouth before he could swallow it down and Ryan could feel his cheeks burn bright red. A warm hand landed on his shoulder and Ryan looked up into Horatio's smiling face. There was a warmth there Ryan had never seen before and he thought that Eric was right, you couldn't describe the way Horatio was different.

"Of course not, he's always been yours."

Ryan really wanted to hug him in that moment. Instead, he hugged Peter to his belly. Laura noticed, but didn't say a word.

To Be Continued…


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24 

The ocean sounded familiar and reassuring as Ryan listened to the waves crashing into the beach. One of his hands was buried in a back pocket, the other hand was resting on a white, plastic chair. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply and for a brief moment he could remember sitting here, smiling at a tall, red-haired man who had a brown-haired woman sitting on his lap. They were kissing. 

The memory disappeared as soon it had appeared and he frowned briefly. 

"Everything alright?" 

He turned around at the sound of Horatio's voice and nodded. The older man was standing in the doorway of the glass doors leading out to the deck. Ryan could hear faintly hear Laura talking on the phone with someone, he suspected that she'd been called about a case. She worked in child services. That's what she'd said anyway. 

Ryan nodded and turned back to watch the sea. He'd been at Horatio's place for two hours now and he was amazed at how much people could talk without really saying anything. For two hours they'd been talking, mostly about the Case, as they'd dubbed Ryan's kidnapping. Not knowing what else to say, they had rehashed everything they knew and talked it over again and again, forming theories and ideas on why Rachel Wolfe had taken Ryan and how she'd gotten him out of the state without raising any alarms. Laura, on the other hand, had been mostly quiet, looking at him. 

She was very… different from Rachel Wolfe. 

It was in the way she talked, the way she was quiet, the way she could sit completely still for two whole hours, listening to two grown men talk about a personal trauma as if it was a case because they were too afraid and too nervous to breach any other personal topics just yet. It was in the way she'd simply reached out to lay her hand on his shoulder instead of forcing him into a hug he might not want. It was in the way she'd stood silently at his side, offering explanations of photographs without seeming overbearing or scarily eager. 

She hadn't said much and when she had, it was in a soft, soothing voice and Ryan could imagine that she'd used that particular tone to sooth Ryan when he'd been a child and had hurt himself. The thought had come so quickly that Ryan suspected it was distant memory, buried underneath his subconscious. He wondered what she thought of him, what she saw in him when she studied him so silently. He was afraid to ask. 

Ryan took another deep breath and tried to relax. He could feel Horatio's presence behind him, he was still standing there, in the open doorway, watching. 

"I have to go." Laura's soft voice said. 

Ryan turned around. She was standing behind Horatio, who had stepped aside and unto the deck. She stepped forward and gave him a sombre smile. 

"There is a case and it's urgent. I've dealt with the same people before and it's a delicate situation so they asked if I…" 

Ryan realized that she was explaining for his sake, wanting him to understand that she had to leave, but that she didn't want to. Ryan smiled at her and put a step forward. "It's alright, I understand." 

She smiled back, relieved and still a little anxious. He wanted to hug her, but he was unsure of what to do. She was always so silent, so unassuming, so…_understanding. _He couldn't understand it at all, were mothers supposed to be like that? Taking a quick decision, he leaned forward, laid a hand on her shoulder and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. His face flushed and he pulled away, stuffing both of his hands into his back pockets now. 

Laura's smile was broad now and she nodded at him. "Bye." 

She turned around and Horatio made to follow her inside, but she stopped him with a hand to his chest. She shook her head. "No, you stay here. I'll find my way out. I'll talk to you later." She looked at Ryan over Horatio's shoulder. "I'll talk to you later, too?" 

Ryan nodded immediately, not hesitating. Laura smiled again and then, giving Horatio a brief but fierce hug, she left, closing the glass doors behind her. Ryan watched as she gathered her things from the living room and waved, before leaving the house. Horatio was still standing with his back to him and Ryan assumed that Horatio had been watching Laura too. 

"I remember the deck." Ryan said. 

Horatio turned to look at him. "Really?" 

Ryan nodded and was silent; he didn't know what else to say. How could he explain that sometimes he could remember something, only to forget it the next moment? How could he explain the confusing mass of images and impressions that Ryan never knew how to make sense of? Ryan sighed and rubbed his forehead, he was getting a headache. His confusion was getting to him and while he didn't want to leave he desperately wanted things to become… comfortable. 

He heard Horatio's footsteps on the wooden deck and could feel his presence coming closer. The sun shone brightly above them and the humidly hot Miami air hung damp and heavy around them, seemingly clinging to their skin. There wasn't even a soft breeze to dispel some of the heat. Ryan loved it, relished in it to chase away the memories of cold and dreary Boston. 

"I hated Boston," Ryan said. "I hated it. I hated the cold, I hated the rain and the snow. I hated everything about it. Sometimes I even…. I even hated _her. _I never admitted that last part to myself. She was my mother, I was supposed to love her, but there was this part of me that just didn't…. It was as if a part of me remembered that she'd stolen me away." 

"In the summers I came here, to Miami, and it was… liberating for me. I loved the heat, I loved the ocean, I loved going fishing, I loved the beach and I loved the city. So as soon as I could, I moved here. I joined the force and finished up my Masters in genetics. I never went back to Boston, never visited her. So she came here and she died. She died on a flight to Miami, it's almost ironic." 

Horatio's hand landed on Ryan's shoulder, heavy and reassuring, familiar. The hand slid across Ryan's shoulder blades to grip the other shoulder firmly. An arm slung around the shoulders, it was an oddly fatherly thing to do, Ryan thought. He could feel a smile spreading across his face.

"There is something I want to show you, come on." Horatio said. He left the deck and Ryan followed him. They went through the kitchen into the living room and up the stairs in the corner. They went down a hallway and stood in front a white, wooden door. Horatio slowly pushed it open and stood aside, so that Ryan could step inside. 

The blue paint on the walls was the exact same shade as the colour of the sky outside and the white clouds on the ceiling would have looked very real to a young boy, Ryan thought as he stood in the middle of what should have been his childhood bedroom. It was difficult to look at, as the longing inside of him rose like a tidal wave to flood his senses. A wistful smile appeared on his face. What would his life have been like, if Ryan had grown up within these walls? 

The bed beneath the window looked so small, Ryan thought, as he gazed at it. He couldn't remember how big it must have seemed when he was younger. There was a toy chest standing at the feet of the bed. It was a dark brown colour, made of oak with heavy, iron hinges. It looked just like a treasure chest out of a pirate's story. There were unopened boxes littering the floor around him and Ryan wondered how many memories had been gathering dust here over the years. There were a few unpacked toys lying about the room, but Ryan couldn't remember them.

He took a glance Horatio, who had stepped inside as well and now stood beside the door, turned towards the wall. One hand was resting against the wall, fingers splayed out against the blue colour. He was looking around the room, a mirror of Ryan's wistful smile on his face. The sight made something twist inside of Ryan's chest and he wanted to say something, to reach out, but he simply averted his gaze back out the window.

"You painted this, for me. I watched you, even though you'd told me to go outside because of the fumes. But I wanted to watch. You seemed so tall, as if you were capable of anything and I wanted to see how you did everything, because I wanted to be just like you when I was all grown up." Ryan's voice was soft and he stubbornly kept his face turned away from Horatio. He could feel his face flushing. 

Ryan didn't remember much, but he remembered that. He could remember sitting on the ground, watching Horatio work. In his youth the red-haired man had been kind, but firm and steady. Ryan had never doubted the fact that his father loved him, because Horatio had a way of showing it in every smile and gesture. He'd been unshakeable and reliable, like the ground beneath your feet. Ryan had remembered the hope that one day he could be like that, that tall, that impressive. 

Again, Ryan could hear Horatio's footsteps coming closer. 

"When you were born, I was terrified." Horatio said and his voice was soft. "I was terrified that I'd do something wrong, that somehow I'd traumatize you for life. It was the happiest day of my life, but I'd never been more afraid. You were so small and you seemed so … fragile. I cannot explain what it does to me to see you now. You're a man, and you're neither small nor fragile." 

Ryan whirled around, surprised to hear the emotion in Horatio's voice. The red-haired man had a sad smile on his face, but he didn't seem weighed down by that sadness. And Ryan realized just exactly what was so different about Horatio Caine, the weight of his grief, grief he had carried with him for years, had finally been lifted from his shoulders. Ryan took a deep breath, and did what he'd been afraid to do for weeks now, he reached out. 

He wrapped his arms around Horatio's torso and buried his head in Horatio's shoulder. The older man immediately wrapped an arm around Ryan's shoulder and tightened his grip. They stood together for a long time, their arms wrapped around each other. Ryan held on for all he was worth, irrationally afraid that any moment he would be snatched away again, like he had been snatched away so many years ago. Horatio seemed to share the same irrational fear, as his grip on Ryan's shoulders never faltered. And Ryan, unable to do anything else, started to cry. 

Horatio's grip tightened, nearly cutting of Ryan's air supply, but he simply didn't care. He tightened his grip too and tried to control the sobs wracking through his body. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, he was choking on his own voice. One of Horatio's hands started to slowly rub in between his shoulder blades, obviously comforting. Ryan swallowed past the lump in his throat and opened his mouth again. 

"D- Dad." 

It was difficult to believe how relieved Ryan was, when he was finally able to say it. 

To Be Continued…


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Ryan stood in front of the apartment building, looking up and counting the windows. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Standing there, it felt like walking through the memories of his childhood. In the summer, he would stand there at that exact spot and look up, counting the windows. And then he would walk up to the front doors, use elevator and walk into the apartment. He opened his eyes and walked up to the front doors.

The ride up to the right floor was shorter then Ryan remembered, but that might have been his own sense of time being warped by his anxiousness. The hallway was familiar, as were all the different doors. He stopped in front of the one he needed and took another deep breath. He raised his hand and knocked. It didn't take too long for the door to be opened and when Ron Sanderson opened the door he looked worried.

"Ryan, come on in. I got your message, you said it was urgent?" His voice was worried too.

Ryan nodded and shrugged at the same time. "Yeah, I …. I suppose it is urgent." The file in his hand felt heavy.

Ron let him in and offered him coffee and Ryan took it thankfully. The older man was looking at him carefully. "How are you doing?"

Ryan shrugged and laid down the file on the kitchen table while he sat down in the chair. He thought about it for a moment. "I'm doing alright, considering everything that's happened."

Ryan could see Ron nodding as if he knew what Ryan was talking about, but the truth was that he didn't know, not really. As far as Ron knew, 'everything' meant Rachel flying to Miami and dying, 'everything' meant going to Boston and burying her. He didn't know that 'everything' was discovering that he'd been kidnapped as a child and the chain reaction of events that discovery had instigated.

"How are you doing?" Ryan asked.

Ron sighed. "I'm doing fine."

Ron poured two cups of coffee and put them down on the kitchen table. He sat down on the seat across from Ryan and curled his fingers around the handle. There was silence for a while and Ryan silently pushed the file he'd carried with him across the table to Ron. The older man gave him a confused look.

Ryan sighed.

"Twenty-three years ago Rachel and Tom Wolfe went on a holiday to Miami. One day, near the end of their vacation, they were walking towards the beach when they were mugged. Tom Wolfe was shot and died immediately. Ryan Wolfe was hit with the getaway car and cracked his head on the pavement. He was picked up by an ambulance and died on the operating table seven hours later."

There was a moment of silence while Ron looked utterly, completely baffled and confused. Ryan nudged the file in his direction again.

"A couple of days after Tom and Ryan Wolfe had died, Rachel Wolfe walked to the beach and came across a young boy about the same age as her late son. They had the same looks too and oddly enough, they had the same name. A couple of days after that, Rachel Wolfe and Ryan Caine showed up at your doorstep in New York. Ryan Caine was introduced to you as Ryan Wolfe."

Ryan could see the disbelief flitting across Ron's face and he sighed. He knew that it was difficult to believe. Ryan had been so confused when the realization that his entire life had been a lie had crept up on him. And for Ron to hear it so bluntly, so ... as a matter of fact, couldn't be easy. But Ryan couldn't think of another way of telling him, Ron deserved to know all the facts.

"When her DNA didn't match mine, I investigated further. All the evidence I discovered is in that file. She kidnapped me, Ron, she took me away from my real family. I don't know if she knew what she was doing or if she'd simply confused me with her dead son, but the truth is that I'm not her son. And you have no idea how much of a relief it is to know that."

There was a long, long moment of silence while Ron thumbed through the files and then he sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. Ryan emptied his cup of coffee in the mean time, anxious for something, anything to do. He loved Ron, the man had been his refuge, his saviour in escaping from the cold prison in Boston where Rachel Wolfe had been the warden. He just hoped that this wouldn't cause Ron to turn away from him somehow. After all, Ryan still considered him as family, because Ron had always had Ryan's best interest at heart.

"I suppose I should have known." Ron said, softly.

Ryan frowned. "What?"

"There were some things she said that didn't make a lot of sense. Back then I just dismissed them, thought that she was just upset and confused over Tom's death. But looking back now, suddenly it makes a lot of sense. When she talked about the mugging she sometimes said "they're dead now" or "he fought for seven hours, he was very strong". But she'd told me that Tom had died almost instantly. And every time I called her on it, she looked surprised, confused and upset, so I decided to let it go and ignore it."

The older man looked positively guilt-ridden and Ryan could only stare at him in shock.

"I'm sorry Ryan. I should have looked into it more, I should have…"

"No! Uncle… You couldn't have known what had really happened. You couldn't have known that she'd kidnapped me. And how could you suspect your own sister of kidnapping someone's child? It wasn't your fault at all. It wasn't anybody's fault, except for Rachel's maybe."

Ron looked sad and still confused. Ryan didn't know what to say. That seemed to happen a lot lately, Ryan not knowing what to say.

"Your name is Ryan Caine?"

Ryan nodded. "I'm the son of Horatio Caine and Laura Haigh."

Ron frowned thoughtfully. "Isn't Horatio Caine your boss at the lab?"

Ryan nodded again. "Yes."

Ron looked baffled again. "What a coincidence."

Sometimes, Ryan liked to think that it had been something more then mere coincidence. Sometimes, Ryan liked to think that it had been Fate that had brought him to the Miami Dade Crime Lab, that it had been Fate that had driven him to become a criminalist. Sometimes, Ryan liked to imagine that it had been Fate that had made Ron Sanderson move to Miami after his retirement, allowing Ryan to come home every year for at least a couple of months.

"So, does he know?"

Ryan blinked, unsure of what Ron meant. His thoughts had taken him far away from the current situation. "What?"

"Does Horatio Caine know you're his son?"

Ryan nodded. "Yes, he figured it out through the records of the DNA tests in the lab. He told Laura Haigh, my mother, and … I've met them… a couple of days ago."

Ron frowned at him. "That doesn't sound too good. He better be proud of you or he'll have me to deal with."

Ryan released a chuckle. "He's…. He's proud of me… He's…. He's just glad to have me back."

Ron nodded. "That's good. Now, it doesn't matter one bit to me if you're Rachel's or not, because to me you'll always be my nephew Ryan, the only nephew I've ever known. And I'll always love you as my nephew, I'll always be here for you and you can always count on me. You just remember that."

Ryan smiled. "Thanks uncle. The same goes for me too."

The End

St: I can hear you thinking already, The End? What the hell? How can you possibly end it here? There are so many things you haven't addressed yet, Horatio finding out Ryan is gay, Horatio finding out that Ryan and Eric have a thing going on, Horatio and Eric having The Talk, just to name a few. And yes, I am well aware that I still have to address all these things. But don't worry, everything will be covered in the sequel Family Tales.

Unfortunately, do to RL (getting ready for my exams in June, getting a lot of assignments, papers, tests to prepare for, writing my thesis, preparing for my trip to London, working on Stress Factor, which is the school festival, the 100-days show, the screaming choir and so on and so forth) I will be unable to spend the proper amount of time in writing Family Tales.

I want to do as much of a good job (if not a better one) on Family Tales as I did on Family Ties and in order to do that I need the time, the inspiration and the energy to do it. I'm severely lacking in the time department and because so much of my energy is being flung in different directions, I am also seriously lacking the energy. The inspiration, unfortunately, has also wilted away over the last couple of weeks, meaning that I've been struggling to write anything halfway decent.

In short: there will be a sequel, but it'll probably take some time. 


End file.
